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sundrop-writes · 2 months

Note

How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?

I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.

"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.

"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"

"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.

"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.

You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.

You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.

You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.

"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.

"Yeah." He scoffed.

"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.

"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.

"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.

"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.

You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.

Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.

Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.

It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.

That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.

He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-

"Reid?"

The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.

You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.

"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.

"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.

You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.

His pants were suddenly very tight.

Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.

He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.

"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.

He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.

Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.

A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

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neopuppy · 17 days

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first, jeno with a mouth fixation. secondly, jeno with a fixation on your mouth but...well, you reject him each time he's made a move on you...that is...until you can't reject him anymore. how does that come to be? idk. but he knows how to get what he wants i'm sure. (you know how to make him get what he wants)

“Pay attention.”

Jeno blinks furiously, sitting up and wiping his chin of imaginary drool. It’s only about the fifth time you’ve scolded him, or maybe the sixth, who's counting.

Right. Pay attention.

“This final counts for half of your grade.” You remind him, peering up from behind your glasses. “Are you even listening?”

No. Jeno hasn’t listened once throughout the duration of this semester. He gave up the first day of class when he saw you chewing on the end of your pen, tapping it against your lips as you followed along with the professor’s introduction.

It seemed to only worsen from there, pens turned to your pinky finger, dragging the nail between your teeth. Hard candies that you’d suck on and hold between your teeth, lightly licking the sugar coating off to make the treat last longer.

That gave him the idea to approach you, finally finding an excuse after receiving his first graded test, not even bothered by the bold ‘D’ circled at the top.

‘These are for you.’ He said flatly, setting a bag of caramel apple suckers on your desk.

‘Huh? Wait, I love these..’ you mumbled, picking up the bag full of 60 suckers. ‘But how—‘

He shrugged, turning around to make way to his seat without another word. Not bothering to explain that he’d noticed the pattern in flavors you always seemed to have stockpiled inside your hidden candy drawer.

Without fail one of those lollipops would end up in your mouth a few times per week as you took notes and graded assignments. Swapping between drinks of water from your overpriced adult sippy cup, biting on the straw attached to your iced coffee, scouring through your drawer after an hour of lectures to find a treat to wake yourself up. Somehow your lipgloss managed to stay intact through it all, making Jeno’s fingers twitch as he grasped onto the edges of his desk.

It’s not only how perfectly juicy your lips look sucking around various objects, but how obscene they hang open when you’re thinking too hard, casually tucking your bottom lip in under your teeth. The meat filling your bottom lip sinking in as you bite down harder, raising the beat of his heart to pump faster through his veins.

At this point he looks forward to another disappointed frown dragging your pretty mouth down when you place another failed test on his desk. He shrugs and smiles, mentioning by the third fail that he may need extra help, assistance if you have the time for him.

Each time you coin up some excuse, too busy for study sessions. He needs to learn to study on his own, teacher assistants are not tutors.

But the day he presents you a gift card for your favorite coffee shop, you begin to relent, smiling softly as you refuse to accept bribery. He didn’t stop there of course, opting to learn your order and show up a few minutes earlier to have everything set out on your desk. Even throwing in a pastry that you munched on once getting halfway into your coffee, tearing off small pieces to chew on which he thoroughly enjoyed.

The next upside test you hand him had an extra note to meet after class.

Finally.

Only now that he’s alone with you, it’s even worse. Hyper fixated on your lips moving as you explain the subject he’d just failed, a big fat F on his test that he could really give a shit about right now.

“Jeno, it wasn’t easy to get this room at the last minute.” You sigh, waving a yawn away. “You seriously need to turn around your grade, at this rate you’ll never pass.”

He hums, agreeing with you, digging into his bag for a sucker. “I don’t work well like this, the pressure,” unwrapping the candy, he drags its dry coating across his lip, slowly blinking at you. “With no incentive—“

“The incentive is your grade.” You interrupt, snatching the lollipop away from him before he can pop it into his mouth. “You need to focus.”

“Make me then.” He shrugs, wrapping a firm hold on your retreating wrist. “That’s mine.”

“Fine.” You scowl, shaking him off. “Finish this practice quiz and I’ll give you your candy back.”

He has to hide a smirk when you raise it to your mouth, eyebrow cocked. “You get more than half wrong and it’ll be mine.”

“Keep it.” He says, leaning over the desk. “In fact.. I’d love to see you try and take it from me.”

Quickly clutching your wrist, he draws your balled up fist back toward his mouth, the lollipop stuck between your fingers. “Get it back from me, and I’ll pass whatever test you throw my way.” He finishes, lips sucking around the candy, sleek gaze burning into yours.

“Want it?” He says between slow, long licks. Grip staying tight on you.

“Let go of me.” You grit, jerking away without budge. “This isn’t proper behavior between students and teachers.”

“You’re not my teacher.” He corrects, sucking the lollipop to one side. “But you want me to pass right? Because if I don’t..”

Trailing his free hand up your arm, he glides past your shoulder and throat, pinching your chin roughly. “I’ll have to repeat next semester when you take over. And I’ll make sure to show up everyday, miss every assignment, fail each and every test.”

“Why—“

“Because,” he tugs the lollipop free, pressing the saliva coated sucker to your pursed lips. “I want you to open up that pretty mouth.” Digging in his fingers, he forces your jaw to unhinge. Whimpering as he invades your tongue and drags the sucked on lollipop down the middle.

“So good at using your tongue, aren’t you?” He jeers, tapping the roof of your mouth with the lollipop until you gag around nothing. “Be good, push those pretty lips together.”

Shaking his ruthless grip on your jaw, he pulls harder until your neck cracks and you cough from the stimulation against your tongue. Lips wrapping shut around the stick.

“Very good.” But not enough. He stands abruptly, chair scraping nastily across the floor. Without losing any tension clenching your jaw and chin, he pulls the corners of your lips open. Thumbs piercing past the seam to watch your tongue struggle to not swallow down the lollipop. Saliva spurting out and running down your chin as he licks at his lips.

Yes. Very good.

“But I want more.” He whispers, thumbs deeping in to push your cheeks open from inside out.

“Pl-please.” You gurgle, moist eyes blinking up at him.

Ignoring your pleads, his fingers drag out, smearing drool down your cheeks and chin. The lollipop stem hangs between your pouty abused lip, covered in slick spit. “This won’t do.” He chuckles, dragging it free from your lips and returning the lollipop to his mouth.

Fingers dig back into your cheeks to keep your head in place, dragging a thick rubbery plastic from his bag. “You can do better.”

#asks #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #nct smut

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bedoballoons · 2 months

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Could I request a reader who makes and gives Ayato, Neuvillette, Childe, Wriothesley, and Kaeya cute chocolates, sweets, and cakes for Valentine's Day?

This perfect request is just in time for valentine's day so to everyone who's reading this happy valentine's day!!

P.s. I hope you don't mind but I added Gaming as well cause I really wanted to write this one with him as well!

─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰💕─

{༻~Will you accept this gift~༺}

CW: GN! Reader, Fluffy and sweet!

(Includes: Gaming, Ayato, Childe, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Kaeya!)

𑁍༄Gaming:

You held up the box of fresh melon cake, your face blushed red and your heart racing, "I made this melon cake for you, I hope you like it! I tried my best to shape it into a heart, but I'm not sure if it turned out right...Happy valentine's day Gaming!"

He smiled happily, his cheeks flushing as he accepted your gift, "It's perfect, thank you and happy valentine's day to you too!" He wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed your cheek, feeling like he was the luckiest on this special day.

𑁍༄Ayato:

You watched excitedly as Ayato unwrapped your gift, his delicate hands reaching into the box to reveal a bag of sweet tapioca pearls, "I handmade them and I thought that we could spend some of today shopping for tea and making our own boba drinks. If you'd like of course!"

He looked at you with adoring eyes and a soft smile, "I would love that my darling. I'm sure they will be delicious."

𑁍༄Childe:

Childe intertwined his fingers with yours, taking a bite of the sweet cake you'd made for him while reminiscing about the first time he'd met you. Of everyone he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, you were the only one who'd ever truly caught his eye and as a harbinger, he'd figured his chances with you were pretty low. Now here he was, enjoying valentines day with the most beautiful person in the world.

"You know, you should take up baking as a hobby. I'll eat everything you make and give you a kiss as payment."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette had been staring at your handmade candies for almost a full minute now and you were internally starting to panick, wondering if maybe he didn't like them...or if he would have preferred chocolates, "Neuvillette...are you alright? It's okay if you don't like them-"

"No no, my apologies. I enjoy them immensely, in truth I'm having a hard time expressing exactly how overjoyed I am to have received such a beautiful gift from you. I'm not the greatest with words...so please accept my I love you instead."

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

You kissed Wriothesleys cheek, setting your box of chocolates in his lap and sitting on his desk with a light blush, "Happy valentine's day Wrio~"

He smirked at you and leaned up from his chair to kiss your lips, "Homemade chocolates hmm? I'm flattered and spoiled...but if it's alright with you, perhaps I could have something else for dessert and enjoy these with you after~"

𑁍༄Kaeya:

You handed Kaeya the bag of chocolates you you'd made, each one as perfect as you could make them and a true representation of how you felt about him. "I hope you like them...this is the first time I've ever made valentine's chocolates and I did my very best. I love you and happy valentine's day Kaeya"

He chuckled softly and leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead, finding you so adorable and sweet, "They are beautiful to say the least and I'm truly flattered to receive your first set of valentine's chocolates. Let's share them over a cup of wine, what do you say?"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Happy valentine's day!~*⁠.⁠✧

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ovaryacted · 2 months

Text

CANDY HEARTS

PAIRING: RE2!Leon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: It was Valentine's Day at the precinct and everyone was giving out candy grams for their secret admirers. Who knew that one piece of candy would have so much of an impact?

CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Mutual pining. Alcohol consumption. One kiss. Flirting and confessions at the end. Canon-adjacent. Modernized era (they have cell phones). The og gang is together and are all above the age of 21. Leon being silly and not knowing about social cues. Chris plays matchmaker & Claire is a jokester. Jill likes margaritas and Rebecca is the mom of the group. They are all friends and live happily ever after cause I said so.

WC: 3.7k

NOTES: I am back from the dead, and I come bearing gifts. This was just something I wanted to write for Valentine's Day, and I don't even know how the idea came along the entire way. Here’s some nice fluffy stuff with a bit of added corniness, something new from me. Hope you all enjoy and like it! Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》

February, supposedly the month when red and pink mesh together to signify the one thing that couldn’t be explained. Love. Romance. Companionship.

It was a silly thing really, something that Leon didn’t understand, mostly because to him, it couldn’t be real. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, that he always wondered what it would be like to be so attached to another person it felt like being two parts of one whole.

It was another full week of the month, the days passing by as quickly as they started. Another day, another patrol, that was what he knew as part of his routine. Heading toward his locker to grab his gear, he was surprised to see a small heart-shaped lollipop wrapped in a red bow. He raised a brow at the strange object, curious fingers reaching out to inspect it closer.

“What do you have there?”

His head turned to the side at the sound of your voice, more so feeling your breath on his neck as you peered over his shoulder. Holding up the red lollipop for you to study, you took it from his grasp, the very tips of your fingers barely touching his before you held the wrapped candy.

“Leon, do you even know what this is?”, your eyes held that same mischievous gleam it always did when you were with him, and simply gave you a shrug. “It’s a candy gram silly”

“What? Someone just put a lollipop in my locker?”, Leon didn’t get why someone would even bother putting something like this for him to find.

“It’s for Valentine’s Day, something that the precinct wanted to do to celebrate. If you get one of these, it means someone is your secret admirer”, the way you described the entire ploy was almost comical to him, and he only chuckled.

“So it’s like a crush type of thing?”

“Sort of. Did you even read the note?”, and from the way he looked like a deer in headlights you knew he didn’t. You motioned over to the small red note that was hidden underneath the piece of candy. Carefully, he went to unfold it and read over the words that were written in cursive black ink.

I can’t turn water into wine, but I’m hoping to turn you into mine.

You watched as Leon quickly became flustered at the funny pick-up line, rolling his eyes and trying to hide the subtle blush he got from reading the words over and over again.

“I don’t like this game”, Leon grumbled under his breath, trying to shake off his embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh cmon, it’s supposed to be funny. But listen, if you don’t want your lollipop I’ll gladly take it”, you smirked as his eyes met yours, pink lips curling up to match your grin.

“What? You didn’t get any candy grams of your own so you have to steal mine?”, he unwrapped the lollipop, popping it into his mouth and humming as he approved the taste. Cherry, his favorite.

“For your information, I got three. I just munched on all of the candies already I wanted another”, you placed your hands on your hips, the uniform only accentuating the curvature of your figure that Leon tried his hardest not to notice.

“Really? You got notes too or were you too busy eating your lollipops you forgot to notice”, he was teasing you now, going into his locker to put on his tactical belt and wrapping it around his hips. It fit snugly on his body, the leather belt he wore underneath to hold up his cargo pants seemed to add to his slim figure. Not that you were paying attention either.

“I did, but didn’t pay too much attention. I got a nice one though, said something like My candy heart is all yours. Real cute stuff”, you leaned against the wall as you waited for Leon before going on patrol. He was one of the only good things working at the R.P.D. had to offer, and coincidentally it just helped that he was also your friend. Having known each other for a while now, being like this came naturally, remembering how easy it was to be with him when you two first clicked.

“Sounds corny”, he said with a shake of his head, closing the metallic door and gesturing the both of you to start walking out of the room and into the main hall.

“Yeah, you’d know everything about being corny wouldn’t you?”, you taunted him back as you walked through the halls of the precinct, keeping track of all the patrols you had on the board today.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Are you coming on this patrol with me or what?”, he already knew the answer, didn’t have to so much as second guess to know that you’d be riding along with him.

“Of course I am. Who else will bother you with their favorite pop songs?”, you walked ahead of him, and his gaze went down your back to look at the handcuffs that jingled every time you took a step.

He definitely wasn’t looking at anything else.

It was a long day of work patrolling the city before Leon finally had some time to himself to relax. Thankfully, he didn’t have to work the overnight shift and could lounge at home to watch some shitty reality TV or whatever tickled his fancy. Of course, that was before he got a text message from you, ever the pest constantly wondering what he was up to. Not that he complained.

There’s a whole theme night going on at the local bar. Free shots at 10:30 pm. Bring your ass over here, and wear red!

Drinks? With you? That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering how familiar it felt to be around you, but he still couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to do for the night. So, he pretended like he didn’t want to be dragged out of his small apartment as he trudged his feet toward the shower to get dressed. He shouldn’t have cared so much about being presentable, usually, he never did. But for you, he was willing to try new things.

For the first time in probably ever, he’s forgone his usual color palette and took out a red button-down, rolling the sleeves up towards his forearms. Leon was always more fond of shades that reminded him of the sky, blues, greens, and white. Red was out of his comfort zone, but going out on Valentine’s Day night was enough to make that ball of anxiety tighten in his gut. Topping it all off with a bomber jacket, he left the keys to his jeep behind and took a cab instead, playing it safe if he ended up drinking something that would surely knock him off his feet.

He seemed to be counting down the minutes to the moment he walked into the bar. Scanning the area, he looked for any sight of you amongst the crowd, walking past several pairs of people lip-locking and downing shots in groups. The energy was electric, the music was lively, and as he continued to trek further into the bar that’s when he spotted you.

There you were, sporting a red deep-cut blouse and leather pants that were tight along your thighs. He caught the glossy red lipstick you put on for the occasion that only brightened your teeth as you laughed with those around you. And when you turned your head to find him standing there, he gulped down the pang he felt in his chest.

Yeah. He’s screwed.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you for so damn long. Good to know you listened to me for once”, you walked up to him, grabbed a hold of his wrist, and pulled him toward a corner of the bar where your other friends were sitting. Unless you cared to look for it, his pulse spiked when your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Maybe you felt it, maybe you didn’t, but that brief touch was cut short when Leon was brought to the table.

Most of the newfound gang was there, Chris and his sister Claire were there sharing a beer, while Rebecca was forcing Jill to be a bit more social. It was supposedly a normal night even though you were out of your uniform, forcing Leon to find a point on the wall to avoid peeking over in your direction. Chris kept him occupied, offering him a drink that he sipped to ease the nerves he felt, all while Claire teased him about wearing red instead of his usual navy. This wasn’t so bad, I’ll make it through the night, he thought to himself.

It only took a few drinks for everything to spiral out of control. The blame is to be put on tequila. It was always tequila, but thank god it was the weekend.

Just like you warned him, 10:30 pm rolled around and the bar burst into cheers as servers carried shot glasses filled with red liquid. Everyone at the table had one, and Leon watched as you downed the shot with ease, a wild grin on your face as you did. With your encouragement, and Claire’s taunting, he drank the shot and winced at the stinging of the liquid going down his throat. He hated taking shots, that you knew, but he’d do it so long as it made you happy.

This is why you leave the clear liquor to me and you stick to your beer. He remembered hearing you say that to him one night when you made him drink vodka, the raging hangover he got in the morning only further proved your point.

He’s lost count of the number of shots you consumed, splitting them between Jill and Claire, and an extra you forced Chris to take despite him sticking to his beer. Rebecca remained as the group chaperone, making sure nobody did anything too embarrassing tonight. Hearing a particular song that brightened your mood, you brought Claire towards the middle aisle where others seemed to follow you to dance in the small space.

Propping his elbow up against the wooden table, Leon leaned back to simply watch you move to the music. His whole body felt warm at the sight, seeing how you swayed your hips to the beat of the song and Claire did the same. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his eyes ran up the stitching of your leather pants, over the deep v-line cut of your blouse, and again towards your face. Sure, you were attractive, he wasn’t blind. But what he was the most fond of was your smile, all cheery and wide to the point where the corners of your eyes crinkled.

He could see that look all the time and never get sick of it. The only thing he’d change was that he was the reason why you beamed like that.

“You’re doing it again”, Chris said out loud with a smirk, knocking Leon out of his little fantasy before meeting eye to eye again.

“I’m not doing anything”, he challenged in denial, Chris only chortled and shook his head.

“Unless you’re watching Claire dance, you know exactly what you’re doing”, the brunette matched his sister in humor, Leon exasperating in disbelief and took another sip of his beer. “You like her. You should do something about it”

“Chris…”

“C’mon, man. How much longer are you going to stand on the sidelines and just watch? Even I’m getting tired of the tension, it’s killing me”, ever the dramatic man, he wrapped a thick arm around Leon’s shoulder, bringing him in closer as if he were telling him a secret.

“You had a chance with the candy grams you realize that right? Sure, free candy but why not make it special?”

“Who says I didn’t do just that?”, the blonde said before it could be filtered out properly, sighing and downing the rest of his bottle.

“You’re joking. Seriously? She got like three of those things”, Chris’s brown eyes widened the slightest bit, not wanting to believe the truth.

“Does it look like I’m laughing right now?”, Leon chuckled incredulously at the realization that these feelings he’d been harboring for so long were starting to pour out of him the more he drank. “I don’t know how to talk to her. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, she’s not into me”

“Leon, you must be an idiot or something because she is into you. Who do you think gave you the candy gram?”, Chris muttered, probably not meaning to say it the way he did but it sounded like a confession.

Leon didn’t have time to ask for more details when you came back to the table on his side, an energetic Claire going towards Jill who was down three margaritas and growing sleepy. He could practically smell the perfume off of you, jasmine and soft vanilla, things that he found comfort in and sought after through his day-to-day.

“I think that’s enough dancing for me, I got dizzy”, you said, finishing the last bit of your watered-down drink and slamming the glass down on the table. From the way you were standing, your body almost leaned against Leon’s, ever inching closer toward him.

“Do you want to leave?”, Leon asked you, ever the concerned friend and partner despite the fact the alcohol was starting to get to him too.

“Nah, I’ll stay a little bit. Do you want to go?”, the way your eyes were hazy when you spoke to him brought that same twitch in his chest he usually ignored when he was around you.

“If you’re good, then I’m good. I’m not leaving without you”, he didn’t mean to say it in a different context outside of friendly, or maybe he did, but when he avoided a visceral reaction from you he figured he was in the clear.

“You got it boss”, you joked with him, but your hand lightly skimmed against his by accident, a shock running through you from the light touch. You didn’t meet his eye, instead, you felt the way his pinkie came closer to your own, discreetly curling around the digit.

It was a shy touch as if to gently test the boundaries of what was other than a cordial relationship. Leon started to grow anxious, thinking maybe he messed up, his mind beginning to spiral until you squeezed his finger back in silence. He tried not to make it obvious, but he looked over at you to see you smiling, and for that second he thought his small dream had come true.

“Another drink and then we’ll call it quits”, Chris’ voice popped the bubble that you were both in, but your hands didn’t move from where they were.

Yeah, one more drink couldn’t hurt, so long as you two remained like this for the rest of the night.

Leon regrets having that one last drink. The world around him was spinning, and his feet were lugging across the floor as if he was going to sink into the Earth any minute now. He nearly forgot that he wasn’t going home alone, that you were beside him, doing your best to support his body as you brought him over to your place like you had done a few times before.

Unlocking the door to your apartment and walking inside, Leon was hit with the same scent of jasmine and soft vanilla that he recognized as your own, faint layers of cinnamon engulfing him when you brought him over to your couch in a slump.

“I’m never letting you drink that much again”, your voice sounded almost distant, but it was comforting nonetheless. You walked away from him, your footsteps growing faint until you came back with a glass of water he graciously chugged.

“Wasn’t so bad, I can handle my liquor”, he slouched further into your couch, his head beginning to whirl from everything he drank.

“Leon, I had to carry you inside. You’re drunk”, you glanced at him with that same mischievousness you always had reserved just for him. Even if you had a better alcohol tolerance than he did, your pupils being dilated told him that you were in the same predicament

“Not complaining”, he was damn near mumbling now, his head pivoting to look at you fully. You were right there next to him, all dolled up in a way he hadn’t seen before. In the back of his mind, he imagined you did it just for him.

So pretty.

“You think so?”, your voice brought him out of his current haze, watching as he blinked once or twice before realizing he said his inner thoughts out loud.

“I-I…huh?”, Leon was stuttering now, looking towards the floor and growing embarrassed at the slip-up. You couldn’t help but giggle under your breath, and he prayed to God it wasn’t at him.

“Leon…I don’t know if you can tell but I’ve been trying to send you signals that I like you for months now. You’re a tough nut to crack”, you were speaking, but your words stopped filtering through his brain the moment you said the words ‘I like you’.

You like me?

“Yes, you cornball, I do”, you answered him anyway, catching him off guard at the response. At this rate, he’ll spill his deepest darkest secrets because he can’t tell the difference between what he’s thinking and what he’s saying. “The candy gram, that was me. Thought it might register in your head but it didn’t”

Leon looked like he had uncovered the biggest truth known to man. It was astonishing to witness, how he couldn’t process the thought that you were actually interested in him. You could see the gears starting to turn in his head, and once the revelation settled in his mind his lips were formed in a gentle smile.

“That was a really bad pick-up line”, Leon said, making you laugh even harder. Your hand made contact with his chest, patting against his body with every sound that slipped past you.

“And yours was any better?”, your hand didn’t move from where it sat on his chest, mindlessly caressing the material of his red button-down.

“Yeah, I think ‘my candy heart is all yours’ is one of my best works”, he was almost cocky when he talked, but his facial expression was anything short of dorky. You both looked like a bunch of love-drunk idiots waiting for one to say what the other wanted to hear.

“Hmm, that sounded like you. Is this you admitting that you gave me that candy gram?”, you were leaning on him, shifting so your body was closer against his. The tequila still running through your system heightened your senses, the natural scent of Leon’s cologne was enough to make your heart flutter.

“Something like that”, he grinned bashfully, blue eyes looking at you intensely. He took in every detail of your features he could get, moving some of your hair out of your face and curling it behind your ear. His hand didn’t move too far, resting his palm against your cheek and running his thumb against the warmth of your skin.

“Would it be bad to kiss you?”, he whispered his words to you, as if his feelings would only be safe in the four walls of this room.

“No, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me”, you moved so your chest was pressed against his, hands moving up towards his neck and caressing the hair at his nape.

Leon didn’t have to wait too long to feel your lips meshing with his, sighing in what he could only describe as pure satisfaction. A shiver rushed down his spine and broke off into the rest of his body, blood pulsing through his veins at rapid speed the more his heart pumped in his chest. He pressed your body against him, wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping his other hand on your cheek.

Leon felt drunk, both literally and figuratively off of you and everything that you were. Things made sense for the first time, having you like this here with him. It was all he wanted, all he needed, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. Against his wishes, he pulled away for air, staying close by to rest his forehead against yours.

“About damn time Kennedy”, you teased him again, but your expression was tender. You noticed how your red lipstick stained his lips, no doubt leaving barely any left on your mouth. “Red looks good on you”, you put a thumb against his lips, rubbing at the plush skin you just felt for the first time.

“Does this mean I get to ask you to be my Valentine?”, he looked so cute when he asked you, rolling your eyes at his question, but you found it endearing.

“You’re two hours too late, but I’ll happily be your Valentine anyway”, you gave him one more smooch on the lips, and the happiness on his face was damn near palpable. “But you owe me a better one next time, you hear me?”

Next time.

“Loud and clear. I’ll have a better pick-up line to use on you”

“If you start getting corny, I will leave you on the couch”, the playful threat didn’t worry Leon in the slightest, his smile getting wider with every passing second he spent with you.

“Awe come on, I meant what I said. My candy heart is all yours”, his nose nuzzled into your neck, kissing your soft ticklish skin and breathing you in, marking your scent into his memory.

This time around, he thinks he’ll thank the tequila instead. Perhaps Cupid is real, a little overdue, but he still got the job done in the end.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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hyperactively-me · 6 months

Text

halloween with husband!ghost 🍁🎃🍭

The chilly Halloween air nips at your skin as you sit on your front porch, surrounded by the faint glow of jack o' lanterns you and your husband had carved. The night is alive with the laughter of children, their costumes ranging from little monsters to miniature superheroes.

The sound of the front door swinging open and shutting pricks your ears, and you turn back to see your husband holding a large bowl of candy. You pull your sweater tighter around your frame, smiling to yourself as you watch him approach you.

"You're gonna catch a cold. Maybe we should go inside—"

"Simon! You promised," you scold gently, pouting your lips.

With a sigh, he begrudgingly sits down on the porch chair next to you, settling the bowl of candy in his lap.

Simon shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his hands clutching onto the sides of the bowl. He didn't really want to be out here in the first place, but you insisted on handing out candy to the kids this year. You wanted to be a friendly presence in the neighborhood, maybe get to know some new people. His reluctance was evident, yet you managed to coerce him into joining you. Besides, it could be fun! You're spending the evening just hangin' out with lil' ol' me! you had teased earlier that day. Of course, he had given in.

You catch a glimpse of his stern profile, the faint glow from the streetlight casting shadows on the edges of his face. He mutters something under his breath, likely a comment about the absurdity of Halloween, but you just chuckle in response, determined to make the most of the evening.

"Y'know, you can munch on those while we wait," you say, tapping his wrist lightly, motioning towards the candy in his hands.

Simon glances at the bowl of candy in his lap and then at you. With a dramatic sigh, he relents.

"S'pose a few wouldn't hurt."

He selects a piece of candy and unwraps it with deliberate nonchalance. As he munches, you can't help but notice a subtle softening in his demeanor. You hum, knowing that that man had an insatiable sweet tooth. His kryptonite.

A group of children dressed as witches and wizards approach your porch, their eyes widening at the sight of the mysterious man sitting there. You nudge Simon, urging him to play along. With a begrudging sigh, he reaches into the candy bowl, hand emerging with a handful of sweets.

"Happy Halloween," he grumbles in a barely audible voice. The kids exchange glances, half-terrified and half-amazed, before timidly taking the candy and scurrying away.

"See, Si, that wasn't too bad, was it?" you tease, elbowing him gently.

He settles back into his chair, trying to hide his smirk. "Don't get used to it, it's a once-a-year thing."

You laugh, appreciating his playfulness.

As the night progresses, more children in various costumes parade by, their eyes wide with excitement as they approach the enigmatic figure on the porch. Simon, despite his initial grumbling, starts to interact with the kids in his own unique way. Some ask about him, while others timidly compliment the carved pumpkins. The occasional chuckle escapes from the man next to you, and you can tell that, deep down, he's enjoying himself.

"Are you having fun?" you smile gently.

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Eh, it could be better."

But you know him well. Despite the tough exterior, you can sense the smallest grin creeping up on his face. You reach over, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're doing great. Besides, it's fun to see the kids' reactions. You're good with them."

Simon offers a subtle nod of acknowledgment, his gaze softening as he watches the neighborhood kids pass down the street. As the night unfolds, he becomes more animated, engaging with the children in playful banter and even managing a few lighthearted scares.

You can't help but smile proudly, reaching your hand to find his. You entwine your fingers in his, giving him a small squeeze. Simon glances at you, the faint glow from the jack o' lanterns highlighting the corner of his mouth as it quirks into a genuine smile. The warmth of your hand in his seems to be melting away any lingering reluctance, and he returns the squeeze, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected enjoyment he's finding in the evening.

As a group of children dressed as superheroes approaches, Simon beckons them over. With a flourish, he hands out candy, mimicking powerful stances. The kids respond with laughter, their amusement evident. You watch, heart warmed, as your usually stoic husband embraces the occasion of the evening.

"You're a sweetie," you remark, laughter bubbling in your voice.

He grins back, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

As a group of little monsters approaches, he pretends to be frightened, eliciting giggles from the kids. You can't help but marvel at the sight—Simon, the serious and stern Ghost, has become the kid’s one stop spot for entertainment. Who’d have thought?

As the final trick-or-treaters make their way down the street, Simon looks at you, satisfaction in his eyes. Simon starts to rise from his chair, a smile still lingering. "Well, that's enough Halloween for one year."

You tease him, "Maybe we can make it twice next year?"

He chuckles, flashing you a sidelong glance, "Let's not get carried away."

You stand from your own chair, stretching a little. "You should give yourself more credit, y'know, Mr. 'I don't wanna hand out candy.'"

Simon shakes his head, leaning down to grab the empty bowl and some stray candy wrappers. "I dunno what you're talkin' about, love."

You giggle at his response as you go to hold the front door open for him. He walks through the threshold, the warm air inside your shared home warming you both up. Your cheeks felt a little numb from the nippy air.

Once inside, you both shed your jackets, feeling the warmth of your cozy home enveloping you. Simon heads towards the living room, and you follow suit. The soft glow of the fireplace casts a warm glow across the dark living room.

Simon drops onto the couch with a sigh, looking content yet still retaining a hint of his usual stoicism. You join him, settling beside him, and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders. The flickering flames dance in the fireplace, casting a gentle glow over the room. Simon reaches to the side to drape a blanket over the both of you.

"That wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be," Simon admits, a glint in his eyes.

You giggle, leaning into him. "Told you."

He smirks, "Well, I might consider making it a twice-a-year thing, but only because you seem to enjoy it so much."

You nuzzle against him, savoring the warmth of his embrace. "I knew you secretly loved it."

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the crackling of the fireplace soothing you.

Simon leans down, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "Thanks for makin' me do this."

"I loved spending tonight with you, Si," you whisper.

Simon's gaze softens, and he tightens his embrace. "Me too," he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble.

#my heart #ahhhh #he's just a sweetie #sweet lil guy #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme #I’m actually so obsessed with this #i love writing #simon “ghost” riley #cod mw2 #simon riley

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hardstrawberrygardener · 2 months

Text

HOUSE CALL

Tags: Zayne x reader, fluff, domestic, beginnings of a relationship?

Warnings: mentions of blood, reader gets a wittle hurt

Synopsis: So grocery shopping went a little crazy, nothing a little house call from your primary care physician can't fix.

Author's note: hiyah! First time writing and posting a complete fic, sorry for any mistakes, and uhhhhh Zayne is my pookie, what can I say?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The rain had gotten temperamental over the last hour, swinging from drizzle to torrential in a matter of minutes. On any other day this would have lulled you to sleep but the itch of the cuts on your ribs and the flecks of dried blood under your fingernails were a sensory nightmare.

You’d spent the last half hour just catching your breath on your now slightly blood-stained couch, recounting the incident that left you oh so pained and disgruntled.

A wanderer attack in the middle of your grocery shopping disrupted you mid deliberation on which snack to treat yourself to, and in the flurry of dodging claws and diverting the wanderer’s attention from terrified shoppers you slipped on the slick, just-mopped, floors, allowing the monster to graze you with its serrated pincers.

The pain was akin to the worst papercut you’d ever had, times a billion and as wide as a discount banana. It really hurt. And the oncoming migraine was really not ideal. The knocking in your head was becoming louder, too loud. Like, someone actually knocking on your door.

Begrudgingly you push yourself off the couch and walk, or really hobble to your front door; the source of the knocking. A confused peak through the peephole and your stomach drops, cause if there’s one thing worse than getting hurt, it’s your primary care physician catching you getting hurt.

“Hey...” You crack the door open, enough to show your face, which you hope didn’t look as bad as you felt. “I wasn’t expecting you here…”

He’s sporting the usual aloof look, scanning what he can see and deducing that you’re hiding the worst from him.

“Your wound will get infected if you don’t clean it.” Blunt and on the dot. As expected of the infallible Dr. Zayne.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and pushes the door the rest of the way open. Too exhausted to deny it, you simply step aside and follow him to your kitchen like a little duckling.

He’s already pulled out a first-aid kit, the one he gifted you himself after the last late night house call. You walked in while he was washing his hands and he’s not looking at you when he tells you to sit.

You plant yourself on the closest chair and he brings a bowl filled with water and a rag soaking in it.

“Lift your shirt.”

“Is this covered under my insurance plan?”

“Unfortunately, this is out of your service, you’ll have to pay out of pocket.” He gets on his knees so he's eye level with your wound.

“Gasp! Can I afford this? Doctor, please I hav-” Your monologue was interrupted by a candy he had unwrapped and popped into your mouth. Mhmm strawberry flavored.

“The patient needs to behave.”

Given that he’s still bantering with you, the injury must not look that bad.

Any response you would have had is cut off by the sting and shock of the cold rag he’s gently wiping across your ribs.

Silence fills the air and in the calm it finally hits you.

“Wait, how did you know I got hurt?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Opting instead to search for a gauze and scissors to cut it to size.

“I didn't. It was a lucky guess.”

“Huh?”

“I heard news of a wanderer attack near your place. ”

“That doesn't necessarily mean I'd get hurt?”

His fingers ghost over your skin as he finishes taping the gauze. Your eyes follow the trail of his hands. Large and littered with scars from his time on the field. Hands that have saved so many lives. Lost in your thoughts you almost miss the next thing he says.

“-Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?!”

He sighs and gets off his knees, now towering over you. He looks down and you think you see just the smallest hint of amusement on his face, but you blink and it's gone.

“I said,” he pauses and leans in closer, “you're still in your bloody uniform, you need to take off your clothes.”

“Ah.” Your mouth is dry as you mentally reprimand yourself for assuming he had meant something else.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room?”

“Nope.”

And with that you are on your feet, scurrying over to your room. You're changed and in much comfier attire in no time. Meanwhile, Zayne has since been inspecting your fridge.

He closes the door and you can already hear the lecture he's about to give.

“Before you say anything, I was going to buy groceries, BUT, the wanderer sort of distracted me.”

He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before pulling out his phone. Deft fingers tapping on the screen.

“The food will be here in 30 minutes, you should drink water and rest in the meanwhile.”

“Huh?”

He walks off to grab a glass and fills it with water before coming back to escort you to your couch. Instructing you to finish the drink. His eyes hone in on the blood stains and his brows furrow but he doesn’t say a word.

He walks back to the kitchen, dampens another rag, and squeezes a few drops of soap on top. Before you can stop him, he’s kneeling on one knee and making quick work of the stains and patting the spot dry.

“Zayne, you’re being so domestic. Do you do this for all your patients?”

He places the rag on your coffee table and turns to you, and for the first time you’re actually looking down on his face.

You stare, taking in his eyes, a shade of honey green that you could spend hours poring over, like an ever-shifting image of a galaxy. When did you get so poetic?

The rain’s pitter patter and the soft ambience of lamplight make this feel like a scene out of a movie, the yellow glow softening his sharp features. He reaches over and palms your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Only for my most reckless patients.”

You can feel the rise of your chest, the fluttering of your heart, and swallow slowly; eyes wander all over his face.

It’s only now that you notice that his hair is a little damp. You inch closer and you catch his eyes lower to your lips. Time moves at that infuriatingly slow speed like you’re dreaming, and the- DING DONG!

Delivery. Mood shaken, and sudden realization of what was about to happen, you both stand and look away. Zayne beats you to the door and grabs the food from the clueless delivery guy as you try your best to not stare daggers at him.

You go to set the table for two, but Zayne interrupts you.

“I have to go soon.”

“What?” Your disappointment clear.

“I just got a message, there’s a patient under critical condition I ought to check on.”

He places the food on the table, and you grab his hand to stop him.

“Wait, you ordered the food, you should take it.”

“I ordered it for you.” He replies cooly.

“Zayne!”

You can see that he has no intention of taking any of it with him and admit defeat.

“Fine. But I’m taking you out to lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles and gently pats your head. “I look forward to it.”

You walk him over to your door and hand him an umbrella, the rain still pattering outside. He turns to you and gestures for you to come closer.

Confused you inch closer and lean into him. His hand finds its way back to your cheek and he places a quick soft kiss on your forehead.

“This will do for now.” He smirks and walks away before your brain is able to process what just happened.

“For now?!” You barely manage to yell at him before he rounds the corner and disappears down the hallway.

Mouth agape, you’re about to go running after him but are promptly reminded of your injured state by a sudden stab of pain.

“Zayne!” You’re not sure if he can hear you, but you don’t care. The fluttering in your heart has you almost floating as you giggle and close the door.

You grab your phone and shoot him a message.

You: You’re bad for my heart.

Zayne: Good thing I’m your doctor.

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #oneshot

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baldval · 1 month

Note

Since you made one for Valentine’s Day, how bout celebrating Halloween with the main hazbin cast? Maybe Charlie is throwing a Halloween party or something!

HALLOWEEN W HAZBIN! ₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox, charlie, valentino, lucifer, alastor

warnings: nothing :)

a/n: idk if i like alastor's part, he's just so hard to write imo😭😭 pls tell me what you think guys🤞

VOX:

꩜ it’s obvious to anyone that vox looooves halloween.

꩜ he’s claimed to you on several occasions that it’s his favorite holiday.

꩜ and that getting the chance to spend it with you only makes it better.

꩜ and how does vox spend Halloween? two words.

꩜ haunted house.

꩜ you never really understood the concept of having those on hell.

꩜ hell is already scary as it is.

꩜ however, being an overlord, having the control that vox has, eliminates some of the fear most people normally feel.

꩜ so a haunted house is his favourite place to go when he wants to feel some of that adrenaline.

꩜ he picked you up that night and away you went, ready to get your scare-factor on.

꩜ darling, if you get scared, just let me know!” he pointed to himself with a grin "i'll stop the whole thing, i swear".

꩜ “afterall, I wouldn’t be much of a man if I can’t protect the person I care about most.” he smiles at you and you can't help blushing.

꩜ you stuck to him like glue, laughing and screaming through every house you went through.

꩜ it was well into the night before you both decided to call it.

꩜ your throats raw and blood pumping from the adrenaline.

꩜ but even in your stupor, vox still managed to take your breath away once he brought you back to your apartment.

꩜ his arms circled around you as he kisses your face.

꩜ you bury your face in his neck as you hug him goodbye.

CHARLIE:

꩜ as far as charlie is concerned, you can’t celebrate Halloween without a good time.

꩜ and to her, the best way to do that is with a party!

꩜ she throws one once every year at the hotel, because, how could she not?

꩜ “you’ll come right? you have to! pleeeease!”

꩜ she’s so adorably persistent, eyes all puppy dog wide and hands folded.

꩜ your answer is obvious.

꩜ and it had her jumping up and down throughout the whole lobby.

꩜ upon arriving at the hotel, you were completely in awe of the change of scenery.

꩜ what once had a reddish vintage look now practically screamed 'halloween'.

꩜ costumes, decorations, snacks, bowls filled with candy, games, music.

꩜ you knew your girlfriend sure took things to the extreme, but nonetheless, it was always fun.

VALENTINO:

꩜ valentino loves halloween.

꩜ you could say he likes it for the aesthetic and you would be right.

꩜ he'd invite you over that night to spend the evening with him.

꩜ you thought maybe you were gonna go to a halloween party, somewhere filled with decorations and people.

꩜ but when you get to his house you only see a mountain of scary and halloween themed movies piled high on the coffee table in his living room.

꩜ along with a bowl of popcorn, soda, and a selection of only your favourite candies of course.

꩜ “are we… gonna watch all of these?”

꩜ "well duh. why? you got something else to do?”

꩜ unexpected, indeed, but who would complain?

꩜ it was hard to pick which movie to watch first since he had such an extensive collection, but you both decided to kick things off with the classic 'the nightmare before christmas'.

꩜ after that, 'carrie', 'scream', 'anabelle', 'halloween' too of course.

꩜ name it, and valentino had it.

꩜ you sat on the sofa between his legs the entire time, bowl of popcorn in your lap, and you silently fed him pieces of the salty snack while he unwrapped and fed you bits of candy.

꩜ it was the perfect way to spend halloween and you wished you could have gone at it all night.

꩜ but after the 7th film, you had promptly knocked out against val’s chest, popcorn bowl empty.

꩜ but instead of waking you up, he merely shut off the tv and covered both your bodies with a blanket, kissing your forehead.

LUCIFER:

꩜ you're getting ready as you anxiously wait for the king of hell.

꩜ the hotel was organising a halloween party, and of course you couldn't miss it.

꩜ and of course you were going with lucifer.

꩜ you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mingled with nerves.

꩜ just as you were beginning to think he might not show, you heard a knock at the door.

꩜ with a mischievous grin, he strutted over to you.

꩜ "sorry for the delay, darling," he said, offering you his hand. "hope you didn't wait too long."

꩜ you accepted his hand, feeling a thrill run down your spine as his fingers intertwined with yours.

꩜ "not at all," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach.

꩜ together, you walked in to the lobby, greeted by the lively sounds of the halloween party in full swing.

꩜ you were sitting at the bar, just chatting.

꩜ "i have to go to the bathroom, i'll be right back" he says with a wink as he leaves.

꩜ "hmm so he really is in love with you" you hear husk, the bartender, say.

꩜ "oh so you've doubted that?"

꩜ "not really, it's just that it's the first time i see it in live action".

꩜ "what do you mean?" you question him.

꩜ "i mean, do you see the way he stares at you as you talk." he fills up a glass. "pure adoration."

꩜ you feel heat creeping up your cheeks and turn around before husk realises how flushed you are.

꩜ lucifer gets back and it isn't long before you find yourselves in the ballroom.

꩜ with a twirl, he pulls you into his arms, and the two of you began to dance to the infectious beat of the music.

꩜ as you moved together, laughter bubbled up between you, your clothes swishing in tune with the music.

꩜ "you know," he says, his voice low as he spun you around, "there's nothing i would want more in the world that being with you."

꩜ you couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spreading through you.

꩜ "well i can assure you it goes both ways." you replied, caught up in the moment as you gazed into his eyes.

ALASTOR:

꩜ it does surprise you that the radio demon has no idea what halloween is.

꩜ he comes up to you and asks you why the whole lobby is filled with pumpkins and little paper ghosts and black and orange streamers.

꩜ you simply smile and say, “it’s halloween!”

꩜ “oh…”

꩜ it’s not that he didn’t know what hallowen was, he explained to you.

꩜ he just wasn’t really aware of what occurred during the holiday itself.

꩜ so you decided it was time to change that.

꩜ you told him to meet you at your room, not giving him any more details than that.

꩜ when he arrived, you took him by the hand and led him towards one of the best places you could possibly think of to give him a proper introduction to the spookiest night of the year.

꩜ the pumpkin patch.

꩜ upon arriving, alastor seemed absolutely awestruck at all the different things there were to do.

꩜ the corn maze, hayride, petting zoo (to which you found out that alastor is a major softie for animals).

꩜ and of course, pumpkin carving.

꩜ it was so cute watching his expressions.

꩜ how his brow would furrow when he tried removing the guts and how his tongue would poke out when he began working on the face.

꩜ you almost forgot you had your own pumpkin to carve.

꩜ you both left in the later evening, hand in hand as the stars twinkled above you.

꩜ “so what did you think? did you have fun?”

꩜ you were expecting a nod, or a quick little hum.

꩜ but he straight whisked you off your feet and into his arms.

꩜ and you knew that right now, the smile on his face was truly genuine.

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

SO FULL OF LOVE (I CAN BARELY EAT)

cw: girl dad!satoru, reader referred to as mom/mama, satoru and his daughter share a sweet tooth, edited poorly but fuck it we ball, right?

Every time your daughter outgrows a onesie, Satoru sheds a tear—and given the quick pace that toddlers tend to grow, happens often.

He wants her to stay small forever, like a little button in his coat pocket he can take with him anywhere and everywhere. He wants her face to stay chubby and her hands to stay six times smaller than his.

But she’s three now, and while she’s still tiny for her age, Satoru finds himself struggling to see the positives of her growing up.

For one, she’s old enough to be her own little person now. As much as Satoru hates it, even he can admit that it’s convenient in times like this—when he needs to keep an eye on her and get work done at the same time.

He’s reading a mission recap text from Megumi when he hears a loud bang from the opposite side of the room where his baby climbs her toy fort, followed by a second of radio silence and then familiar the wail of your daughter.

Face red and eyes teary, she scurries her way over to him with grabby hands and a need for reassurance.

Out of fatherly instinct (something he has now), he’s quick to scoop her into his hold and coo gentle reassurances her way.

“Hiiiii, my angel. S’okay, c’mere.”

Hearing the commotion from the other room, your head turns.

“Satoru? What happened?” your voice oozes with unease.

The last thing Satoru needs right now is you reprimanding his lack of eye on her, so he does his best to sound as innocent as possible with his cool reply.

“Nothing! I got her, she’s fine,” he tries to dismiss casually. And he’s releasing a breath of relief when he realizes that his lame excuse worked and you aren't stomping your feet to where he rocks his baby.

Between Satoru’s magic fingers rubbing comforting circles on her back and his constant babbles of reassurance, the baby in his arms has mostly calmed herself down.

“You okay now?” he wipes her snotty nose and salty tears from her round face. With a wobbly lip, she nods. Satoru smiles at her bravery. “Brave girl.”

He grabs a piece of candy from your decorative bowl on the end table, which is meant for guests and special occasions. Satoru decides that this moment is special enough. He grabs a covered chocolate and unwraps it before plopping it in your daughter’s palm.

“Don’t tell mama,” he whispers with a finger pressed to his lip, and his daughter giggles like a lunatic before nodding once more and biting into the treat.

It’s a few minutes later when you join them in the living room. Your daughter now plays with her toy tucked beneath Satoru’s arm, chubby hands pawing at this shirt to keep themselves occupied while her eyes fixate on her doll in hand.

You sit beside them, running a tender hand through your baby’s messy hair.

“Why’d she cry?” you hum.

Satoru fights off a grin and merely shrugs, “Think she missed you, right?”

He nudges your daughter, and she nods and reaches for you. You open your arms for her to crawl into, and Satoru whines at the loss of warmth but burns at the sight before him. You sway your daughter back and forth in your arms, kisses being peppered all over her face and head while she shrieks with nothing but pure love.

An obnoxiously loud kiss is smacked against her cheek before you surrender and let her slip from your grasp and back against the couch. Satoru’s mouth waters with jealousy.

“I missed you too, y’know,” he mumbles through a pout.

And though your eyes roll, you let him pull you in regardless and place a wet kiss to his own cheek.

While doing so, you don't see the secretive look your husband and daughter share. With a guilty smile, Satoru’s grateful you didn't see your daughter’s sticky candy hands.

…

Satoru’s on dinner duty tonight.

He has your tiny daughter perched on the kitchen counter next to where he works. Water boiling for soba noodles, he’s extra cautious to keep her an arm’s length away from the burner while she swings her feet and kicks her heels off of the cabinets.

Her eyes instantly glimmer when she spots a half-eaten candy bar on the window sill beside her. With her dad focusing on stirring the noodles on the stove, she deems it a perfect time to reach for the chocolate temptation.

Satoru’s quick to turn his head at the sudden crinkling noise.

“Whatcha got there, princess?”

His head turns and he’s met with a smile on her face and the chocolate bar on her lap.

“Please?” she sweetly smiles.

Now, Satoru has never been able to say no. Always the people pleaser, he’s known for agreeing until his teeth rot with sugary praise. So when his daughter of all people asks for something he knows she shouldn't have, he does his best to deflect rather than deny.

“Uh,” he hesitates for a moment, “let's wait a little bit, okay? After we eat the boring stuff, alright?” He points to where the noodles boil on the stove.

Your daughter silently agrees, putting the bar back down on the counter with a plush frown and weeping eyes. And it’s all it takes for Satoru to fold.

He immediately cradles her in his hold when handing her the rest of the chocolate, “Okay fine, don’t give me those eyes.”

Like a flipping coin, she accepts his apology with a giggled “Thank you, dada!”

Satoru sets her down on the floor. He squats to be eye level with her, voice attempting to be stern as he points a finger in front of her.

“Don’t tell mommy I’m giving you candy before dinner,” he breaks off a piece of the chocolate before handing it to her eager fingers, “she’ll kill me.”

His daughter shoots him a thumbs up before immediately plopping the dessert into her mouth. Something about the actions reminds Satoru that this is not the first, nor will it be the last time she will get her way with him.

When you're gathered around the table eating, your daughter claims she’s full only halfway into her usual portion. With furrowed brows, you look to Satoru in confusion, but he merely shrugs and takes another bite.

“Maybe she’s still full from lunch.”

…

Satoru has officially made it his most recent mission to curse whoever packages children’s toys, because he has been wrestling with opening his daughter’s newest stuffed animal for the past twenty minutes.

Just when he thinks he’s getting somewhere with the plastic packaging, the world’s strongest sorcerer almost cuts his hand on the cardboard of the box, hissing out in frustration as he sits on the playroom floor.

“This fuckin’ thing–”

A tiny gasp interrupts wherever his sentence may have been going.

Your baby stands before him with a (familiar) devilish grin. “Bad word,” she points out, a little too excitedly.

“No,” Satoru quickly scrambles to his feet, “nonono–”

She ignores his urgent defense, “Daddy said a bad word.”

“No, he didn't,” he matter-of-factly corrects. “Daddy said he loves you.”

“No!” she drawls out the word immaturely, as a child does.

“Yes,” Satoru quickly repeats her tone.

“Daddy’s in trouble,” she dances a knowing finger in his face before scurrying away from his open hands and making her way to where he knows you to be doing laundry in the other room.

His life nearly flashes before his eyes at the thought of you finding out where she’s learned this one from, so he’s quick to grab your daughter from behind and swing her over his shoulder and back into the playroom.

“Hey—wait! I have something for you,” he grasps at straws.

He watches her tiny face light up at the mere mention of a potential surprise, and when he reaches into his jacket pocket and reveals a heart-shaped chocolate—one he remembers stealing from Nanami’s front desk—the little whirl of your hair and his attitude jumps out of her skin.

Within mere seconds, she’s unwrapping the tiny candy in her warm palm and giggling with victory, already forgetting whatever it was that she was running to tell you.

Satoru can’t help but watch with a stomach full of pride, “You really are my kid, huh?”

Not understanding her father’s words, she simply nods happily and lets the rich chocolate melt on her tongue.

Satoru holds her plush cheeks gently in his hand as he slowly enunciates his words, as if he’s hypnotizing her to embed it in her mind that she will not snitch on him.

“Since I gave you this, we don't tell mom that daddy said a bad word, right? It was just an accident.”

“An ask-ident.” She repeats with an affirmative nod.

Satoru smiles. “Okay, deal.”

He extends a hand for her to shake, but instead, his baby uses his offer to sneak beneath his arm and hug his torso as a personal little thank you.

And as his heart swells with so much love that it spills over, he engulfs her in his embrace.

“Nice doing business with you, ma'am.”

…

Satoru is more excited for your girls-night-out than you are. While you view it as more of a chore being away from your family, Satoru thinks you deserve a few hours of freedom.

“I'll only be gone a few hours, okay? And when I say you can call me for anything, I mean anything, no matter how silly or stupid or—”

“Have some faith in me, will ya?”

He watches your face deflate at the insinuation, and since he doesn't really mean it, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you toward his chest. You welcome his warmth without complaint.

“I know—I do,” comes muffled from his torso as his palm circles your back. “Just get nervous being away from her sometimes, but I trust you.”

Your husband melts at the confession, before naturally ruining the moment.

“You shouldn't,” he teases.

Your head is removed from his chest to send him a striking glare, one that warms his cheeks and results in a contagious belly laugh that has you escaping his hold and grabbing your shoes with a sigh.

“M’kidding! God, baby, go have a drink… or five.”

“Oh, I plan to,” you scoff, grabbing your last-minute necessities as Satoru practically walks you to the door.

With a hand on the doorknob, you remind him. “She has clean pajamas in the dryer—”

“You got it, boss.”

“—and she can have a snack before bed, but no jumping on the couch. She knows not to, so don't let her trick you into thinking she doesn't.”

Satoru answers you with a hum placed to your lips. It’s quick and sweet, and while he loves you more than life itself, he knows you need this night out, so sue him for practically ushering you out of your home and into your uber.

“Right, no having fun, got it. Now go,” he nods before calling out to his daughter who sits on the couch watching the television, “say bye to mommy!”

Tiny feet on hardwood floors come barreling your way, and a “Bye, mama!” paired with a warm hug and wet kiss are just enough to calm your nerves and allow you officially to leave for the night.

The night in the Gojo household goes smoothly for the most part. The two of them giggle on the couch, watching some silly movie and pretending to be the characters on screen. As the sun goes down and the yawns begin to set in, Satoru rises from his spot on the couch.

“Wait here, okay?” he points for her to sit. “M’gonna grab your pajamas.”

She nods, eyes still eagerly transfixed on the television before he’s quick to jog to the laundry and grab her clean pajamas.

With a smile on his face as he returns to the living room, he's proud of himself. Tonight was a piece of cake. No tears, no messes or spills, no lessons to be learned. Just him and his well-behaved baby—

—who is without shame jumping on the couch cushions at his departure. The one thing you specifically told her (and him) not to let happen. And she’s grinning from ear to ear, fully knowing what she's supposed to be doing and how it’s clashing with what she's caught doing right now.

“Hey! What’s goin’ on here?” Satoru tries to be stern, but the waver of surprise in his voice gives him away.

Your daughter plops her bottom onto the cushion in an abrupt manner, smile still devilishly decorating her tiny little face as she pretends to feign innocence.

He kneels down to be eye level with her on the couch.

“What did mama say about jumping on the cushions?” his tone is soft, which his daughter easily recognizes as malleable.

She stands up from the couch. “Here,” she points to where she just stood up from.

Satoru’s head turns at the vague gesture “What?”

She sighs, like she's sixteen years old, and just asked him to take the car for a test drive.

“Daddy, here,” she points with a bit more ferocity, and still as confused as he was before, Satoru cautiously moves to sit in the spot.

Your daughter scurries in the direction of the kitchen, and before Satoru can follow her and figure out what the hell she's doing, she's back within thirty seconds and forcing something into his large palm.

A piece of candy, one most certainly plucked from his hidden stash towards the back of the cabinet, is shoved into his hand. And when his eyes flicker up to his daughter's face; oh, is it a sight to see.

“No tell mama?” she whispers, eyebrows raised as she innocently awaits his inevitable answer.

Satoru would shake his head if he wasn't buzzing with pride. Must be a Gojo trait, he thinks to himself.

With ease, he accepts her chocolate and breaks it in half, giving one to her and plopping the other right on his tongue.

“You got it, baby.”

And when you come home with a slight buzz and find the two of them passed out on the couch, a few scattered candy wrappers littering the floor, you decide to let it slide. Just this once.

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo fic #satoru fic #gojo x you #satoru x you #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru fluff #dad!gojo

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ryukzakiii · 4 months

Text

distraction ⭑ l. lawliet

summary: during a late night working on the kira case with L, his distractions become too overpowering and the two of you decide to blow off some steam.

( part 2 here ! )

pairing: l. lawliet x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT!! MINORS DNI!!! this gets a little filthy actually. virgin!L, praise, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), L is needy as hell, also he swears like 3 times i think so

authors note: hiiii this isn’t proofread and it’s 4am enjoy

smut under the cut‼️

every night working with you was a long one. in the beginning it was because, try as he might, L could not seem to get you to remember the simplest things you were supposed to do to help him out. you’d forget how many sugars he took in his tea, or forget where you had filed something away the night before, whatever it was it always got on L’s nerves.

not like he could say something to you, he was always fearful that he would hurt your feelings or that you would think he was much more upset than he really was, and that would impact your work.

nowadays however, now that your working together was no longer a new thing and the both of you had gotten into more of a routine, L began to attribute the long nights to simply one thing, you.

he wasn’t sure exactly why, but he found himself distracted from the task at hand most nights of the week, usually thinking instead about how nice it is that you help him out with so much and how enjoyable it is to work with somebody as smart as you. right now in particular though, he was realizing just the reason you were becoming such a distraction.

thanks to his crunched posture, you were blissfully unaware of the growing distraction that laid underneath the zipper of his jeans.

when you’d first joined him that evening, the sight of you descending from your room adorned in pyjamas that left alarmingly little to the imagination, only being aided by a knit cardigan left hanging open, a sudden pulse shot through his body and left L truly praying you couldn’t see the tent forming in his pants. it wasn’t as if L didn’t realize before how attractive you are, but things like that had never affected him the way they were now.

if she would just button up that sweater. maybe then i’d be able to get some work done.

“hellooo?” the sweet sound of your voice interrupted his thoughts, “ryuzaki, did you hear a word i just said?”

“er- no, my apologies. what was it you were saying?”

you playfully rolled your eyes at him and stood as you spoke again, “i said, i’m going to make another tea. do you want anything?”

just to make this throbbing go away so i can get back to work. “no, thank you. hurry back though will you? i’m not getting through this as quickly as i’d like to so i’ll need as much of your help as i can get.”

he watched you hurry out of the room to make your tea and tried hard not to take notice of how little the back of your shorts covered or the sway in your hips as you walked. he placed a hand over his clothed erection and allowed his head to fall back onto the chair, a quick sigh escaping him at the accidental friction.

his few moments of solace came to an end quickly when you came back into the room, giving him little time to sit up and readjust before you took your seat in the chair next to him. almost immediately you scooted over closer and held out a closed fist in front of him, “give me your hand.”

L stretched his hand out underneath yours, a small wrapped candy falling into his palm.

“i grabbed one for you from the bowl in the kitchen.” you said as you unwrapped one of your own.

he watched carefully as the candy brushed your lips before you gently placed it on your tongue, his breathing steadily becoming more heavy and intense and he could feel every pump of blood circulating through his veins, “thank you.”

“are you alright? you look a little flushed. i can turn down the heat if you want, i did turn it up a bit a little while ago.” you started to stand.

“no!” the tips of his ears began to burn with embarrassment as he quickly stood in her place, urging her back into her chair so she wouldn’t be able to see anything, “uh- no, thank you. you just sat back down, i can get it.”

L tried to steady his breathing on the walk over to the thermostat, taking this time with his back turned to attempt to shift his erection in a way it would go unseen. hesitating to turn back around, he scurried back over to his chair with his head down and hoped to whatever god might be listening that you didn’t get a chance to see.

god, how unprofessional. if she noticed, our professional relationship will be tarnished indefinitely and she’d never trust me again. not that i would really blame her, i mean how would that seem, she’s alone at night with her boss and he’s sporting an erection.

unfortunately for L, you had noticed, you actually had noticed back when you got up to get your tea but you weren’t sure if you were just fantasizing imagining things. you were sure of what you saw on his strange walk back to his seat.

while he was lost in his own worry, L failed to notice you moving your chair so your arms were practically touching until he felt you peering in front of him.

he snapped his head back, “what are you doing?”

“just looking at what you’ve got over here. if you weren’t hogging it the whole time i wouldn’t have to invade your space.”

L clutched his knees closer to his chest, at the point of being unable to hide his unsteady and shallow breaths. he wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say to get out of the position he was now in to decide what happened next.

you turned around to look at him, presumably asking him something about what you’d just read. he tried to hear you, he really did, but over his pounding heartbeat and mind full of thoughts all he could do was watch your mouth move in what felt like slow motion.

“i’m sorry, can you please say that again?” he could barely hear his own muffled words. you were so close to him and he could see directly down your top from where he was sat, not that it helped much that you were leaned directly into his eye-line.

you placed your hand on his knee and he thought he was going to throw his stomach up, “i just asked what you thought about these men from the yotsuba group. ryuzaki, seriously is everything okay?”

he wanted to answer but before he could even try you spoke again, “maybe you need to put the case down for a while, y’know, blow off some steam.”

finally, he looked you in the eye, “please forgive me.”

before you got a chance to ask what for, both of his hands held your face as he leaned forward, planting a hesitant but desperate kiss on your lips. he was sure that the moment he pulled away, your involvement in this case and his life was going to crumble in front of him.

to his surprise, he barely had a second to take a breath before you were gripping onto his shirt and pulling him back in. every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, you were practically on top of him and he couldn’t help but try and pull you in closer, reaching for your jaw and your waist and practically anything he could get his hands on. his body was moving by itself and solely on instinct, making him feel a little self conscious about if he was doing the right things. his mind was soon put at ease when he felt his arms fall slack and your weight shift over him, the closer you got the better. you pulled away just slightly to take a breath and his legs fell to a normal position, hurriedly kissing you again and hoping you would just understand and sit down so he didn’t have to try and speak right now.

“ryuzaki—“

“L.” he interjected, “please i— please call me L. just here.”

you smiled, “L, are you sure this is alright?”

“one hundred percent.” his hands still holding onto your waist for dear life, you held his face with yours as you closed the small gap that remained between the two of you. he let out a small, involuntary groan when he felt your thighs press around his hips, “i’m going to need some guidance here, as i’m sure you’ve guessed this isn’t something i have any prior experience with.”

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you.” gently, you began to grind down on him, earning a deep sigh from L and his hands making their way from your waist down to your hips, using his white-knuckled grip to help you slowly along.

“that- that feels incredible. y/n- please i don’t know if i can hold out.” his cheeks were flushed bright red—probably the most colour you’d ever seen on his face—and he looked down to where the only things standing in his way was his jeans and those godforsaken pyjama shorts you wore, “not that i want to go quickly through this, in fact that’s less than ideal it’s just— this is getting rather painful. i need— shit, can i please, you know.”

to put him out of his misery, you hushed him with a kiss and got to work on undoing the button on his pants. you’d barely gotten it undone when his hands pushed yours out of the way, pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

you were glad you were already sitting down. not that you were expecting to be disappointed by the size of course, but just seeing it now made you feel a little nervous. drool nearly threatened to escape your mouth before you snapped back into it, making a mental note that you would have to do that another time.

L looked up to you, one hand pushing your shorts to the side trying not to cum right there when he realized you hadn’t been wearing underwear and the other slowly stroking himself, awaiting your approval.

the look on his usually-blank face would’ve been enough to make anybody weak, “L, please.”

he wasted no time in lifting your hips up and pushing himself in, pausing after just the tip to breathe and calm himself down. you could feel his hands trembling during his failed attempt to keep his composure, opting to ease yourself onto him instead.

he let out a shaky breath that caught in his throat when you’d fully sat back down. you yourself were trying to breathe through the intense feelings already taking over your whole body, you weren’t even sure you’d be able to take him fully, and now that you had you felt more full than you ever had in your life.

“let me know when it’s okay to move,” you whispered by his ear, “we’ll go as slow as you need.”

his hands returned to their spot on your hips, “dear god, move.”

you started off slow, his cock only coming out about an inch or two before pushing right back in. his head was spinning, you were invading his every sense. all he could smell was your shampoo, the taste of the candy you’d eaten still remaining both of your tongues. all he wanted to do was show you what he was feeling. he didn’t have the words to even begin to try and explain it. as if they had a mind of their own, his hips began to meet your movements, quickly picking up in speed and overtaking your control.

“fuck! that’s it— L, please.” you couldn’t say much more than that, every word being punctuated with a hushed moan, but the praise drove him crazy. any hesitation he’d had before was forgotten about, and he let his instincts take over. after all, he’d learned to always trust his instincts, why would now be any different?

he knew he wasn’t going to last very long, yet he couldn’t help pushing your hips down to meet his thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every one and making you practically cry out. if it weren’t for the quiet chants of ‘please’ he’d have thought you really were crying.

you could feel your orgasm approaching soon, and as if like he could read your mind L lifted a hand to push your shirt up above your chest and dipped his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking so gently compared to the harshness of his cock.

your arms wrapped around his head, hands tugging at the roots of his hair which earned you a deep groan into your chest. with every thrust you were getting closer and closer, his mouth having moved on to kiss your neck with the same desperation he’s harboured since the first time.

“i’m so close, god please don’t stop. —feels so good.” you begged, throat dry and still panting and holding his hair for dear life.

“fuck,” he began losing the rhythm he had been trying to keep to, “i’m— i’m going to orgasm. i need you, please.”

his hips started to stutter as he reached his peak, panting and whining into your ear and wrapping his arms tightly around your back. the feeling of you coming undone and squeezing around him just made it that much more intense, his face felt so hot he buried it into the crook of your neck.

by the time both of your movements had come to a halt, he was laying back in the chair clutching onto you, head still held tightly to your chest and cock beginning to go soft inside you. L never wanted to move.

the embarrassment and nervousness was slowly returning and he felt his cheeks get hot again, so he tried to focus on the sweet smell of your shampoo that engulfed him to calm himself.

after a few long, perfect minutes, you broke the silence, “was that okay?”

“that was amazing.” his head remained tucked into your neck, “i’m sorry if i wasn’t very good at it, and that i couldn’t last any longer.”

“don’t be ridiculous, L it was fantastic. we’ll have plenty of time to build up your stamina if you really want to.”

and just like that at the thought that this could happen to him more than once, he felt the blood rush back into his cock and you suddenly remembered something you’d wanted to do earlier.

“why don’t you let me show you how good you made me feel, huh?”

#l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #l lawliet smut #l lawliet fanfiction #l lawliet fanfic #death note smut #death note fic #death note

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undercoverpena · 4 months

Text

make me like the holidays

marcus pike x f!reader | marcus masterlist

written for 12 Days of Pedro

summary: you're not the biggest fan of the holidays, so marcus makes it his mission to change that with a christmas market and a gift you have to wear.

wordcount: 3.6k warnings: smutty-themes, a teeny bit of orgasm denial, you consent to wear a vibrator controlled by marcus, vibrator worn in public, outdoor orgasm, christmas themes, marcus being a tease, his dimples, his smile, him.

an: huge thank you to @hellishjoel for asking me to be a part of this, and to @thetriumphantpanda for holding my hand, answering questions about warnings, and reading this as i shoved it at her face.

“So, what? You just don’t like the holidays?”

Snorting, you slide your fork around your bowl, licking your lips.

Because you knew eventually this would come up.

"I didn't... say that," you reply, averting your eyes. Mouth opening, closing again, unsure where to begin.

How to start.

How to begin to explain the odd feeling you get around this festive time of year. How your eyes don’t light up at tall Christmas trees, and instead your heart sinks whenever you see one of those adverts where the family all meet excitedly for the holidays.

It doesn’t matter how you dress it up—whether you hang tinsel or baubles—it always seems like an odd time of year. And because of that, It makes people pity you, aww at you, feel compelled to leave candy canes on your desk and purposefully add you to their Christmas card list, as though it's going to fix the decades of memories.

Placing your fork down, and you sigh. “I guess. I-I just don’t get super excited for it.”

Marcus is already thinking—you can tell.

The faintest line begins to appear between his brows, deepening the more he stares, drowning you in a brown you’re forever grateful to get the chance to wake up to every, single, day.

Leaning across the breakfast bar, he smirks—all devil, no angel. “I think I could change that.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

Nodding, his breath dances over your skin—all tantalising—before he softly slants his lips over yours, biting carefully on the bottom of your lip.

“That how you’re going to convince me, Pike—using underhand tactics such as your mouth?”

Snorting, he leaves his fingers lingering under your chin. “That’s a last resort. I think I can convince you in other ways to see how magical it can be with me.”

“You sound very confident.”

He smiles, and it makes something twist inside of you—a worry growing there, planting itself, all ready to grow into something ugly that he’ll eventually see. Be the thing at the top of the list when he inevitably realises he can do better than you.

Stroking your skin, he sighs. Not heavy, nor soft. Something in the middle. “I’m still going to love you if you hate the holidays, baby.”

Smiling, you look down at the counter—the one the two of you eat at whenever you can now, taking what hours you can have together.

“I promise,” he whispers. “But, you think you can let me try and make it special for you? Show you that there’s nothing quite like a Pike Christmas?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a heavy sigh, meeting his eyes—somehow feeling yourself fall even deeper in love with him when you do.

“How can I say no to such an offer.”

Bundled up, wrapped in layers—including his scarf—your gloved hand slides into his, fingers awkwardly trying to find the home between his, almost wanting to pout at the fact you couldn’t feel his palm against yours.

“Comfortable?”

There’s a sparkle to his eye, made worse by the smirk that accompanies it. The one you imagine he’s been wearing since he’d handed you the bag stuffed with tissue, arms folding as he leans in the doorway.

It’s a little bit of fun, he had said.

Your fingers unfold it, unwrapping it free as your eyes immediately land on the box containing the little purple device and its remote.

“I know the season isn’t your favourite thing, but I thought this might make it more enjoyable.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stare at the box.

“Thought it could give you something to be excited about,” he adds, tone shifting—more silky than normal. “Now, whether you’re on the nice or naughty list today, is down to you.”

"Oh, Santa Pike. Please put me on the good girls list."

Grinning, his fingers slid over your jaw as he kissed you, "I think you'd prefer to be on my naughty list, baby."

Now, that same purple, unboxed gift is resting against you, flush. Stuffed and held in position by the underwear he helped you choose—the lace of it keeping it very much in place. And while it isn’t currently switched on, but you know he could change that at any moment—the remote buried in his pocket, all within his grasp.

A thought which makes heat lick up your spine and an ember of worry knot in your stomach—

At any point you change your mind, you tell me, baby. You hear me? Just say the word.

Clearing your throat, you curl into his arm, staring up at him—watching him take in the run of wooden huts, fairy lights and overt cheer.

“Let me guess, you have a to-do list for today?”

Smirking, his arm comes around you keeping you close, before he pinches your side. “No. We’re gonna see what we get up to.”

Squinting playfully, you brush the edge of his stubbly chin. “I’m not buying it. You have a plan.”

Shaking his head, his teeth tease his lip, nose almost flush with yours. “No plan—just want a lovely day with my girl…”

Hovering your lips over his. “But?”

His eyes slowly close, nose scrunching—lips spreading into the biggest, most foolish smile. “We have to start with a festive drink—”

“I fucking knew it, Pike. Fine, come on.”

But, he doesn’t let you budge, not even as you grumble, grasping your hips, yanking you close.

He gives you a look, a pointed one—all accompanied by a grin. It’s all shit-eating, spreading delightfully up into his cheeks. One you’d usually brush over with the pads of your index fingers.

"You don't sound like you're having a good time, baby."

"Marcus..."

You don’t move them this time—leave them on his waist. Feeling his hand slide into his pocket. And you brace.

It’s the only way you’re able to stifle the soft moan which attempts to slide through your teeth and burn the air as it buzzes. Light, but good. Your breath was suddenly a challenge to find, made worse by his watchful stare.

Lashes fluttering, gloved fingers gripping into the side of his jacket as you let your breath paint against his neck. It’s all building—layering itself on thickly atop the earlier ‘testing’ he had done earlier. When you had whined his name, been tempted to shed the many layers and keep warm in an entirely different way with him.

“That feel good?” he asks, low, breathy—only able to formulate a nod.

Then, it stops.

Blinking, your thoughts suddenly cleaner, more appropriate—things beginning to speckle back into your mind.

“Kiss?” he asks, the request falling from his tongue like silk.

“Depends how good the drink is.”

It turns out, it’s delicious.

Marcus had practically whispered the name of the drink he recommended into your ear—having likely noticed the overwhelmed expression slowly etching into your face.

Trust me his expression reads, as if you’d ever trust anyone else.

As soon as the taste of his recommendation met your tongue, your body almost welcomed the season with open arms. Your groan wasn't even buried as your eyes widened at the taste, at him for suggesting it—watching him smirk before he looped his arm around your waist.

“Thoughts?”

Smiling, you almost reply that you like being close to him, preferably forever choosing to be pressed close to him. You find it calming, suddenly no problems ever seem that big when he’s next to you.

Swallowing that, you glance at him, knowing it would be easy to fight the smirk. To act placid, add a shrug, sell it. But, his eyes have widened a fraction, pupils a mere dot in a sky of brown, with the reflection of the lights acting like stars.

The hope etched into his expression is what puts the final nail in your attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s good.”

Brows rising, he grins. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you take another sip. The flavours of the hot chocolate coating your mouth as you slide your arm around his waist. The feel of his lips against your forehead spreading an additional warmth through you, that the drink would never have available.

You’re almost sad when it ends.

Not that he lets you sit in that. Quickly, he takes your cup from you, placing both in a nearby trash can, before he’s pulling you back to him. For the briefest of moments, you just stare, admiring the way you see the outline of yourself in the pool of his eyes, the way you get to witness the way his adoration spreads across his face—all lit up by swinging fairy lights in the gentle, winter breeze.

“Got cream on your lip, baby,” he whispers, tongue swiping across your bottom lip—nowhere close to the site he pointed out.

And then you feel it again.

The thrum which spreads through you, is pressed against your bundle of nerves, making your thighs quake on fixed and solid ground. With the addition of his mouth on yours, the waves lap more feverishly, it all building, all desperate to crash.

Your fingers grasp onto him, teeth piercing into his bottom lip as he kisses you, letting you bury a moan into his mouth—and Marcus is happy to swallow it. Gleefully getting to feel and taste the way he makes you feel as your walls flutter, tightening—wishing for more. Needing more. Almost begging for it when you catch his gaze.

“You know how good you look right now?”

And then it stops. Your breath hitching. Skin prickling with warmth as you let a gasp escape—it weaving into the air, encased in vapour as you blink.

“W-what’s next?”

He grins, it rising up until his dimple appears. His palm flattening to the back of your coat, fingers sliding in pulses.

“Thought we could pick decorations for our tree.”

Brows raising, you turn your head, looking at him, finding him already watching you. Something is spreading in you, a symbolic bandage extending out from his touch to around the places warped and scarred from years of bad memories.

“Our?”

Kissing your head again, you hear him repeat that one word: our.

Just like he had done when he’d moved the last box of yours, you asking whether his place would get your favourite burgers delivered—ours, baby. Ours. It felt it, too. He’d made sure of that. Created space on shelves, and moved ornaments from their homes to allow yours to have a place.

So, it wasn’t out of reach he’d do the same with his holiday, his tradition.

“What if you hate my taste?”

Snorting, he brushes your cheek. “You know I love the way you taste.”

Rolling your eyes, he laughs.

“I could never hate your taste, baby. I love everything about you.” His hand drops, and he takes a sip of his drink as you do the same. “Plus, you chose me. Can’t be all bad.”

He’s kind to you when you’re handling the baubles, even more, when the two of you wander hand-in-hand through tightly packed huts.

Your hands point out things, not just for the two of you, but for others—his parents, a friend. It allows your guard to drop, and your brain to temporarily forget the device resting snugly against the swollen nerves desperate for him—even if you’re aware of how soaked your underwear is. How it clings, how it brushes nicely against you when the two of you walk from place to place.

Marcus becomes less kind when you’re in the queue for a sugary snack, your mouth busy explaining to him where you best think the tree can go in his place—a thing he corrects to ours at every chance he can.

“You almost sound like you’re getting into all of this.”

Smiling, you rest your head against his shoulder in the line. “Maybe it’s the company.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice low, the corner of your eye-catching his other hand sliding into his pocket. “Could be that.”

“Marcus.”

He just raises his brow, a sly smirk passing over him, before you feel him flick it on. “How else are you going to remember that it’s our place, baby?”

Every nerve, the ones previously all frayed, now lit up—just like the tree in the centre of the market. Your mind empties with a press of a button, fingers sliding inside his open coat, grasping for him—for grip.

“You excited about the holidays now?”

Fuck, you hate him, because yes—if it’s like this you’ll forever adore Pike holidays. You’ll wish for them, count down to them on your calendar. Ticking off in red pen, making a point to excitedly cross each one of them off.

Because the two of you haven’t even put the tree up yet.

There’s still so much prep, so much you suspect he wants to replace with good, better—more excitable—memories.

“Bet you’re wet,” he whispers.

And you glare at him, unsure if it’s with adoration or anger. Both merging, swirling—concocting into something you can’t stifle as your cheeks warm and your ears burn. Because there are people around—families, small children.

“Take me home,” you plead. “Please?”

Pressing your thighs together you find only makes it worse. The pulses are far more forceful, and better aimed directly at the already needy parts of you.

The ones which he’s usually so attentive with, barely keeping you like this, all wanting and not satisfied. Marcus barely lets the knot in your stomach tighten usually, but now, you think he’s having fun with it. Likely admiring the way your pupils are swallowing colour and a sheen is crossing over the skin on show. Because you’re warm, too hot— there are too many fucking layers and not enough of him pressed against you—

“Need you, Marcus.”

His fingers brush against your chin, aiding you to take a step forward as the queue moves. “I know, but be good for me.” His mouth close to your ear, hand impossibly tight on your hip—keeping you pressed against him, able to lean, let him take your weight as your legs shake. “You deserve this—”

Your lips part, and all attempts at levelling your breathing fail, falling away from your grip. Feeling the focus on the surroundings fading, black spots appearing—this game of taunt and tease having made you so impossibly shaky on your legs.

And he turns it up.

Moves it to the next one up, an up-and-down kind of vibration. It feels good, but then it lessens—a momentary break, a chance to mumble his name less in a whine—before it returns like a second wave.

It pulsing. Something akin to a rollercoaster, a high and a low—it comes around in slow circles that makes it hard to know whether you’re close to coming or growing more frustrated.

“You want something with chocolate or prefer just sugar?”

You try to speak, mouth moving close to his ear, but only a moan escapes. Low, coming from somewhere deep in your soul as his grip tightens on your hip. The speed slowed for a moment, likely settling itself up to do another build-up.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

Your legs are unstable, more jelly than muscle and bone. It’s all too much, but not quite enough either—just needing that fraction more to stop teetering on the edge and fall over, filling with bliss, and pleasure.

Each time he slides his hand over your hip or back, you have to swallow a whimper of his name. Dangling against the edge, dangerously so—only one little push and you’d be falling, freely, willingly, likely moaning and making an embarrassment of yourself so close to Santa’s fucking grotto.

“If,” you begin, hand to his chest, fingers trying to find skin, something, anything, his still around your waist, practically bruisingly, clutching the many paper bags against you, “we go home now, we might have time to put the tree up.”

You watch him smirk, how it hits his eyes—making the twinkling lights pale under the brightness of his expression.

“Then,” you continue, lips sliding close to his ear, “you can—shit—do something no one has ever done.”

He swallows, loudly—not even swallowed by the choir. “What’s that?”

Smiling, licking your lips. “Fuck me under it.”

Pinching your side, you swear you hear him grunt.

You barely register that you’re being dragged, hip to his, being led—the little device working its magic against your drenched cunt as you pass by choir singers and a person dressed like an elf until it’s suddenly quieter.

Bags dropped to the side of you, back pressed against the side of a hut—the roof casts a shadow over his face, but his eyes still shine. They’re bright and alert. Drinking you in like you’re the only thing that he can see, ever wants to see.

"No one can see us, I promise."

You believe him. It's the only reason you allow yourself to release a pathetic moan before your fingers dig into his pocket. Searching through receipts and his phone, finding it. The thing which weighs more than gold to you, the remote that has the chance to make or break you right now.

It clicks with such ease.

Every muscle in your tightens, your eyes clench shut, all but vanishing winter wonderland from sight and painting a new picture on the back of your lids. Him—naked. Stood all soft muscles and his signature smirk. His room—ours, you hear it in your head, ours baby, ours—surrounding you.

You’re on fire.

Cracking an eye open, finding him watching—in awe, captivated like you’re a sight to behold. And maybe, clutching the remote in your hand, you were. Maybe you were illuminated in a heavenly glow and looking as though you could melt the fake snow around the two of you—you feel you could, anyway, just from the look he wears.

The fact the two of you are just focused, lost in only the other as he keeps you against the side of the empty hut—thankful, happy, that at least one of the stalls hadn’t opened so you couldn’t be heard being held against it, mind being lost to the buzzing in your underwear.

“Who knew you were so dirty?”

“You love it,” you moan, ghosting your lips over his.

Needing a little more, craving a little more.

Please, please, please you think over and over.

He takes it from your shaking fingers, sliding his knee between your thighs—pressing it more defiantly against you, flush, likely feeling the vibrations through his bones as you moan his name. Sketch it into the air, write it there, never wishing it would fade—

More, Marcus. Please, baby. Please.

You’re aching. Your ears flood with buzzing as liquid heat spreads through you when he clicks once, twice—thrice. Landing on a setting he must have seen in the instructions.

And it’s bliss.

It’s mind-melting, muscle surrendering. Your hand cupping the side of his neck, nails digging in, needing to feel him, know he’s there—wishing it was his fingers, wishing he was heavy against you. That weight you crave, that sensation of just him.

Close, so close—

You say it like he wouldn’t know. Like you can’t feel the way he’s looking for signs across your face, likely knowing more about how close you are than you even do. He spends enough time making you feel good. Too good to you, always has been, ever since the moment the two of you met, and you’re grateful, happy, content, fucking over the moon, sun and stars—

“What do you need, baby?”

“You,” you whine.

Just you, only you. Only ever you.

The coil in your stomach tightens, the knot having formed something which can shatter with far too much ease, and it does shatter.

You snap. Break. Fall apart.

He drags your face against his neck, letting you curse, and moan. His name crying out from your lips, until it falls in softer waves from your tongue, splaying across his skin, tattooing him. Squirming close to him, suddenly at ease, shoulders sliding from your ears.

“Marcus,” you whine, differently.

And you’re grateful it stops, him switching it off—a grin breaking out in its wake. Your breath slowly comes back to you, your chest unloosening from trying to bury all your pants.

That’s when you’re finally able to take him in and see the way he’s still staring, so lost in you. His mouth parted, the softest smile trying to stitch into his cheeks, eyes moving around the features of your face.

You just let him stare, and he lets you gaze. Only blinking, letting the rest of the world in when you hear a bunch of kids walk past the end of the hut, loudly laughing.

“I think I could like a Christmas with you.”

Grinning, he pockets the remote, his hand coming to your cheek. “Yeah? I told you I’d make it special for you.”

Nodding, you kiss him. Soft at first, before it deepens, nipping at his bottom lip—finding yourself meeting the hut again, his palm beside your head, able to taste the sweetness of his drink from earlier, the cream, chocolate and ginger—

“I was serious…” you mumble, “earlier.”

Pausing, he lifts his head.

“About the tree, what we could do under it.” Sliding your hand down his front, you cup him, feeling how hard he is, fingers sliding either side of him. “Think you deserve a special day too.”

“Really?”

Biting your lip, you nod, slowly at first—then more purposefully.

“Fuck, I love you, baby.”

an: merry pike christmas ;)

#Marcus pike x reader #Marcus pike x female reader #Marcus pike smut #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fluff #Marcus pike Fic #Marcus pike fanfic #Marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike the mentalist

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joonggphilia · 4 months

Text

🤍❤️Candy Cane Man❤️🤍

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pairing: Dom! Top! Yeosang X Bttm! Sub! male reader genre: smut CW: Mastubation with toys, use of toys, just general smut stuff A/n: thanks to @liyatime for the idea <3 2/8 done!

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Horror spread across your face. It was Christmas morning, calm at home with your boyfriend, you didn’t expect this. You unwrapped a gift to be surprised with a box full of…..toys. “I hope you like it, baby. I made sure to pick only your favorites. With one exception.” Yeosang winked, referencing the white and red urethra plug. “Merry Christmas.” Yeosang leaned over and whispered in your ear, then removed himself from the room and got into the shower. “Fine, guess I’ll just die.” You sighed to yourself, picking up the box and moving to your bedroom. You immediately reached for the first toy in the box, a simple, Christmas colored, dildo. You shut your door and got to work. You carefully slid the object down to your needy hole, thoughts of your boyfriend in the shower leading the fantasies. Lord was he perfect. It took you a minute to adjust, but it eventually moved all the way in. It felt…..good…..familiar. “Do you like it?” A voice spoke from behind you. You let out a screech, Yeosangs green hair still wet and stuck to his naked form. “M/n! Are you enjoying yourself?” Yeosang hummed, an amused smirk on his face. Of course you liked it, you were face down (ass up) on your shared bed. “I-it’s good…b-ba!be.” You stuttered, trying to form a sentence. “That dildos custom. Molded. You’ll have me even if I’m gone.” Yeosang laughed, amused at his gift idea. “Would you like help?” He added, his naked cock, rock hard from staring at your state before him. “Please, I’d love help.” You breathed out, quickly removing the dildo. Yeosang wasn’t the type for small talk, he immediately shoved himself into your stretched hole, causing you to let lewd sounds escape your lips. “Ye-yeo. Shit.” You gasped, he never got old. “I-I know. You’re choking me, relax a bit.” He grunted, squirming as he felt you clench around him. He leaned farther forward to place soft kisses down your back as he thrusted in and out of you. He loved leaving hickeys on your back, making you hum in pleasure. Yeosang loved the idea of making you feel good. “Let’s try something new. M/n.” He chirped, reaching for the box. “Babe, I don’t know about this.” You whined, watching him grab the candy cane urethra plug from earlier. Yeosang moved your chin with his hand so you would look back at him. He began to move a bit faster, causing tears to form in your eyes. “I promise it’ll feel good. Just relax and breathe.” Yeosang smiled, in contrast to his sexual actions. “I-I trust you.” You breathed, trying to form coherent words as he pounded you from behind. You felt his strong hands wrap around your body to grab your throbbing cock. “YEOSANG!” You yelled feeling his hands grip you and the cold toy at your tip. “Shhhh, I told you it’ll be alright.” He chuckled, moving faster inside your hole. He pushed the plug in, causing uncontrollable squeaks from the boy under him. “Baby~ I-it’s a lot.” You moaned, the different sensations driving you crazy. All do the sudden he pushed the plug as deep as it goes. “T-TOO MUCH!” You yelped, your orgasm coating Yeosang hand and toy. “I barely got to use it.” Yeosang shrugged, before going back to your hole. He never showed it, but he orgasmed inside of you multiple times, just watching you squirm drive him over the edge. He pulled out painfully slow, licking the plug clean. That was it. “Yeosang. Just one more round. Please, it’s Christmas.” You begged, grinning as he rolled his eyes and climbed back on top for you.

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#christmas special #smut #ateez x male reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez x reader #Kang Yeosang x male reader #Yeosang x male reader #Yeosang smut

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heavenlyvision · 5 months

Note

Ok so I was just eating a Candy Cane and my mind went real nasty real quick so I gotta scream into the void :

Imagine if you an Bi-Han were fucking right? Doggy style right in front of a mirror, already perfect. BUT imagine he put a candy cane in your mouth and stops fucking you every time the candy falls out your mouth but you’re so fucked out that you don’t even realize it’s out so Bi-Han puts it back in your mouth and you mindlessly start sucking on it as he fucks your brains out

Anyways-

No this is so valid, I think he would also be mean about it !!! You’ve made me open my third eye, I’m apparently feeling unhinged today because I wrote a short little thing for you over this <33

Smut below the cut | MDNI

Bi-Han has you on all fours waiting for him, you hear him unwrapping something from behind you.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Keep this in your mouth” he growls at you.

Wordlessly you open your mouth, waiting for him to present you with what he was referring to, when you see it you realise it’s a candy cane.

You take it in your mouth, sucking on it mindlessly. He’s pleased by your unquestioning compliance.

He’s positioning himself behind you, dick swiping through your wet folds, the feeling making you both moan lightly. The candy cane threatens to fall from your lips but you suck harder on it. Bi-Han hums appreciatively from behind you.

“That’s it, so well behaved,” he mumbles.

Looking into the mirror in front of you, you meet eyes with him. His gaze firm as he watches you suck at the sweet treat.

He watches your face carefully as he slips the tip of himself inside your tight pussy. A moan falls from you at the fullness and he grunts at you disapprovingly, the candy cane has fallen from your mouth without you realising. He leans over you, slipping inside you completely as he does. He grabs the candy cane and puts it back in your mouth, your lips automatically sucking onto it again, much to Bi-Han’s delight.

“Keep. It. There.” He grunts at you.

Your reply is a thoughtless hum.

Slowly, he draws his hips back, watching the way your face pinches in the mirror. He groans at the cute expression you make but your mouth drops open in a moan again, the candy falling from your mouth.

Slamming back into you, he leans forward again and places it back in your mouth. Almost every time he draws out of you, your mouth drops open in a moan and he has to put the treat back in your mouth.

He slaps your ass, bringing your cock drunk gaze back to attention. You’re looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Pay attention and suck on your treat like I’ve told you to,” he says, tone stern, reprimanding.

You look sheepish as you mumble, “Mm sorry, you feel too good…”

He sticks the candy cane back between your lips and you suck again.

“All you have to do is suck,” his eyes are dark as he looks at you.

You nod your head complacently at him.

He starts fucking into you again, rougher this time. You do your best to remember the candy cane but with the way he feels dragging against you, your mind floats away, eyes glazing over at the feeling. Bi-Han enjoys that look on your face immensely but he’s still disappointed at your inability to do one thing.

He stops fucking you suddenly and you whine at him in response, he again, puts it back in your mouth. He doesn’t say anything but his gaze is threatening.

The pace he set picks up again, fucking you dumb on his fat cock. And you must really be dumb right now because it drops from your mouth again. Causing Bi-Han to stop fucking you again. Which makes you whine pitifully at him, again.

He simply picks it back up and shoves it in your mouth again before continuing his brutal fucking. The sounds of your wet pussy squelching around him fill the room and you’re trying really hard to remember to suck but he keeps hitting something devastating inside you and you drop it again.

You scrabble to pick it up this time, placing the candy cane back in your own mouth, desperate for him to keep going.

He has a proud look on his face at your desperation for him to continue. His hands grip your hips tightly, his thrusts harsh. Your arms are barely able to keep yourself up, threatening to give out under your own weight. You drop to your forearms. The angle deeper now, his cock reaching further inside you. A large moan slips from you and the candy cane falls out again.

You don’t even notice this time, too lost in the feeling of his cock deep inside you. He quickly shoves it back in your mouth, too close to his own high to bother punishing you. Not when his own orgasm is so close.

You’re twitching around him, cunt pulsing with how close you are to cumming on him. His groans are loud as he fucks himself into you. His eyes are careful to watch you through the mirror.

Your own eyes fucked out and glazed over, unseeing while you mindlessly suck on the candy cane. You’re drooling around it now and the sight has Bi-Han cumming very suddenly, pumping you full of all his cum.

The way he twitches inside you pushes you over the edge, the force of your orgasm has you biting down on the candy cane, snapping it in half.

You’re both huffing, coming down from your highs together. Bi-Han’s eyes are still on your face, smiling smugly at you and how stupid you look right now. Completely cock drunk from him.

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “Merry fucken Christmas.”

His words send a shudder down your spine. Merry fucken Christmas indeed.

#visions blurb #ask vision #mk1 smut #bi han x reader #bi han x you #subzero x reader smut #subzero x reader #bi han x reader smut #bi han smut #subzero x you #subzero smut

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abibliophobiaa · 2 months

Note

chocolate

eddie munson x g/n reader.

“you’re going to give yourself cavities.”

he’s on the couch when you enter. hair tied back in a loose ponytail, wearing his favorite pair of gray sweats that always cling to his thighs in the most perfect way. stretched across his chest is a dark, long sleeve shirt, the slightest sliver of skin peeking out from the bottom.

all across his lap are the evidence of his latest indulgences. countless wrappers with varying labels strewn about, another chocolate treat inches away from his mouth as he waves to you where you stand near the living room.

with a laugh, you unzip your jacket and toss it down onto the dining table, shoes already left by the door. your keys fall in a clatter against the wooden table.

“it’ll be worth it,” he mutters, mouth closing around his reece’s.

“should i be aware of any raids that may have happened in the neighborhood? particularly taking place at any local grocery stores?” you gesture to the endless wrappers, and the foil he crumples up in his palm to join the others.

“a heist, really,” he chuckles, cupping a hand around your thigh when you settle down beside him, wrappers crinkling beneath the weight.

“i can see it now: the great candy heist of eighty nine,” you tease, waving a hand over his bountiful — albeit sugary — feast. “what is all of this?”

“there was a sale on valentine’s day candy, so naturally i couldn’t let it slip by.”

he’s halfway to unwrapping another as you pluck a wrapper from beneath your thigh, the remnants of a chocolate bar staining your pants. “didn’t i get you enough candy for valentine’s day?”

you’d gone all out. put together a basket of all his favorites. it had been worth it, hunting them all down, if only to savor that smile which lit up his face that evening.

“well…yeah,” he mutters sheepishly, “but i ate it all, and when i saw the fifty percent off signs i…had to, you know?”

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you laugh, leaning over to grab at a hershey’s kiss resting on his thigh. before you can grab it, he snatches the candy from where it’s sitting. “hey! i wanted a kiss.”

“shoulda said so,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to yours. it’s sugary and sweet with a caramel undertone. like eddie. like home. “how’s that?”

he leans back, dimple popping in his cheek in a bright smile. a sigh spills from you, pleased, heart thrumming wildly in your chest. “the best.”

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

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threadbaresweater · 4 months

Text

simple gifts | higuruma hiromi

it's christmas and i'm delusional. Have this picture-perfect hallmark romance daydream with my current obsession. f!reader, who can blush and has straight hair. they also visit a church at the end. 1.3k words of sappy fluff because i couldn't help myself. divider by @/saradika

Higuruma Hiromi never realized just how romantic the Christmas season could be until you were at his side. Frankly, he found the season overly commercialized, redundant, and really nothing more than a cash-grab for retailers and entertainers. Not quite the Ebenezer Scrooge of his time, he still found little to be excited about in the midst of the holiday hustle and bustle.

That is, until he happened to glance at you one day as the two of you strolled downtown among the artisan shoppes and tucked away coffee houses; your eyes positively sparkled as you studied a festive window display, the smile on your lips overtaking your entire face. Large, fluffy flakes of snow fell atop your hair and settled in on your scarf, and the ruddy color settled high on your cheekbones set your skin positively aglow. You didn’t speak to him– charmed as you were by the decorations– but he found that he didn’t need you to say a word. Your excitement was palpable.

He squeezed your hand and watched as a particularly large snowflake settled on your eyelashes. You giggled and swiped it away with a gloved finger, turning to smile up at him. When you realized the fondness in his gaze, the rose of your blush grew a bit deeper, and you swung your hip against him playfully.

“Knock it off!” you giggled.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You’ve been watching me the whole time. Don’t you like the decorations?”

He hummed thoughtfully, adjusting the cashmere scarf around his neck. “They’re nice. But your reactions are more interesting. You’re like a kid in a candy store.”

You pointed at a grand, evergreen wreath at the rear of the display, adorned with red velvet ribbons and a few well-placed sprigs of holly. “Wouldn’t that look nice on our front door?”

Hiromi nodded once, pondering your suggestion. He’d never decorated for Christmas before, and while he liked to consider himself a man of good taste, there had never been anyone in his life to help him decide.

Another thing he was grateful to you for. Without much effort, you brought an unprecedented joy to his life that he’d never thought possible. “If you say so.” It was the safe answer, this much he knew.

“Don’t just tell me what I want to hear,” you countered, wrapping your arms around him for warmth– and as an excuse to inhale his scent, to feel the wool of his coat against your cheek. “Do you like it or not?”

“I do."

At home, you pulled out box after box of decorations, much to Hiromi’s bewilderment. “Where on earth are we going to put all of this?” he asked. Lounging in his favorite chair, feet propped on a well-loved ottoman as he sipped a mug of spiced cider, he watched you. “And how did you manage to accumulate so many...things?”

Your answer came as a conspiratorial sort of laugh as you surveyed the mantle of their fireplace and the minimalist decor of the rest of the home. “These are things I’ve been gifted over the years. Some, I’ve had since I was a little girl.” you spoke slowly, thoughtfully, as you carefully unwrapped delicate figurines, charming knick-knacks, and scented candles, lining them up on the coffee table until you could decide where to place them. “Some are gifts from friends...colleagues...ex boyfriends…” The last words spoken earned you an arched brow and a deep frown, which you answered with a cheeky smile. “I’m just kidding, Hiromi. I wouldn’t keep such things.”

“I see your sense of humor is suffering from all the giddiness you’re caught up in,” was his reply.

You bounced up from the couch and threw yourself into his lap, linking your arms around his neck. Bringing your face mere inches from his, you grew serious, your eyes dancing, sparkling in the dim light of your living room. When you spoke, your voice was low, an over-the-top sensual whisper. “You know you love it.”

He closed the distance between you and claimed your mouth with his, then; a slow, exploratory sort of kiss, one that left you breathless and dizzy. Hiromi had kissed you hundreds of times before, but you never quite got used to the rush you felt with each silken slide of his lips upon yours.

“I have to put up these decorations,” you breathed when you parted, your fingertips trailing across his cheek as your eyes remained locked, his warm breath blowing softly against your mouth.

“Of course. Don’t go blaming me for getting distracted, though.”

After another quick, short kiss, you slipped away from him and set about your work while Hiromi took it upon himself to fan out the branches of your artificial tree. Grand, tall, and full– with pre-lit branches and a realistic charm– it stood proudly in the middle of the large picture window of their living room. Together, you hung bulbs, garland, and sentimental ornaments, while festive music played in the background.

Later, over takeout paired with expensive wine, you asked him, “What do you want for Christmas, Hiromi?”

It took him two fork-fulls of food and a sip of wine to answer while he pondered. you watched him curiously, legs crossed, chin in your hands, the smile on your face revealing your quiet anticipation to his reply.

“I already have what I wanted,” he stated simply after touching a cloth napkin to the corners of his mouth.

You pouted and fluffed the rice on your plate. “You’re no fun. Tell me. Isn’t there something you’ve been longing for?”

If you hadn’t been studying him so intently, you would have missed the subtle change in his expression, the rush of color to his otherwise even complexion. He cleared his throat and stood from the table, walking around it to stand in front of your, hand extended in an invitation.

Confused, curious, you laid your hand in his and allowed him to pull you to your feet and fold you in his arms. Thumb and forefinger lifted your chin so that he could look upon you with such intense affection that it made you misty-eyed. “Hiromi…?”

“You.”

“What?”

He sighed and hugged your close, swaying side to side while the music you had put on earlier continued to play. “It’s you. And now that you’re here, I can’t think of anything else I want,” he confessed, sifting your hair through his fingers. “But if you insist on giving me a gift…” he backed away from you, threading his fingers through yours and leading you toward your Christmas tree. You followed, sliding your stocking feet playfully along the wood floor; you would swear you felt his hand tremble when he released yours to pluck a small, red box tied with a simple white ribbon from atop the branches of the tree. your mouth fell open as you watched him place it into the palm of your hand. “Open it,” he implored, softly.

“But it’s not Christmas yet…” you murmured. He pressed a finger against your lips and shook his head.

“Just open the box.”

You obeyed; slowly, deliberately, you untied the delicate ribbon and opened the box to reveal a ring bearing the largest diamond you had ever laid eyes on. Hiromi lifted the ring from its pillow and sank to his knee in front of you.

“Will you give me the gift of being at your side for the rest of our lives?”

Hand clapped over your mouth, tears blurring your vision, you nodded furiously and watched with rapt attention as he slid the ring onto your finger. He stood and curled his fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth to kiss you, his own eyes damp with tears of relief, of overwhelming joy.

Late that evening, you stood together in the church of your youth– a stone cathedral with impressive stained-glass windows and aglow with candlelight, the ethereal sounds of a choir reverberating throughout the cavernous space. You sang the words to the carols you’d known since you was a little girl, Hiromi’s slightly out of tune baritone accompanying you quietly. Outside, the snow fell, blanketing the world in a pristine layer of glittering white.

In the warmth of the candlelight, you studied your ring– the symbol of Hiromi’s devotion to you. On the way to the church, you had talked about a Christmas wedding– next year, of course– and walked through the snow bundled in your winter coats, your excited laughter and breath visible as plumes of white against the indigo night.

“I love you,” you whispered when the hymn was over, just as the strains of the great pipe organ faded and the choir intoned their last note.

He turned to you and smiled, and for a moment, you thought your heart might stop.

“I love you, too.”

#higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk x reader

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onlycrystal · 10 months

Note

hiii could u pls do a bratty fm reader x tsukishima kei who puts her in her place during sex??

needy

cw: brat! sub reader, dom! tsukishima (brat-tamer), semi-public sex (they’re in a bathroom in a house at a party), tsukis a lil mean ( but he always is lets be fr) degradation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, etc

authors note: I AM SOOO SORRY I HAD SUHC BAD WRITERS BLOCK FOR THIS ONE, low-key gets rushed at the end sorryyy this is also not read thru sorry for errors pls keep up the submissions everyone I enjoy having stuff to guide my writing!

you looked around the room, seeing people play pool, beer pong, and red plastic cups galore. rap music blared in your ears, causing you to wince from the intense sound waves. you knew nobody here, and you felt super uncomfortable.

every friday, your boyfriend, tsukishima, would go out to parties. even though you went to the same college, it was never really your... setting. a bunch of people drunk off their asses doing stupid shit? yeah it wasn't really your scene. but, you loved spending time with tsuki, and one day you decided to go to one with him.

which led you to now, stuck on some sofa between 2 guys who you didn't know looking at you like candy, unwrapping you in their eyes. you adjusted in your spot uncomfortably, pulling your skirt down since it kept riding up. "I've never seen you at these parties, you should come more often" the nameless raven haired boy purred. "im kuroo and hes bokuto" you just smiled awkwardly at him and the silver haired one who wouldn't even talk, just stare.

you were bored, you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend :( you got up and walked around the house, scanning for the tall lanky boy everywhere. suddenly, you catch sight of him. he seemed to be talking to those same boys you just left. are they following me or smth? you thought to yourself.

you walked up to him shyly, seeing him excuse himself from the boys, who would not stop staring at you!

"hey babe, you enjoying the party?" he asked, patting your head cutely and snickering a bit when he ruffled your hair. you pouted back at him, and he stopped. he could tell something was wrong but he didn't know what. "tsuki..." you brought yourself closer to him and pressed your jutted-out chest against his abs (due to height difference). he looked down at you with warning. you didn't realize what was wrong until now. a heat formed between your legs and you rubbed your thighs together, only a little bit so people wouldn't notice. "tsuki, i wanna go back home..."

he looked a little pissed off. "y/n, we are in public" his eyebrows furrowed at the word "public" but you didnt care. you looked up at him with big eyes "want you to fuck me baby" you were nearly whining at this point, and you smirked slightly as you felt him harden up down there. but boy was he mad! and it did not help that kuroo and bokuto were watching this whole thing play out. tsukishima, who basically had steam coming off his head, looked down at you with rage and lust, putting his arm around your waist "bathroom, now"

you followed him, tripping over yourself slightly as he practically pushed you into the bathroom, harshly slamming the door behind him and locking it aggressively. the music sounded much quieter from in here, and the dead silence made chills run up your back as your stared at your very angry boyfriend.

"jesus fucking christ, y/n. dont you know when to quit?" he brought his hand to his face, his long fingers massaging between his eyebrows to relax him before he lost his temper with you. you didnt falter, instead removing the hand from his face and guiding his long skinny fingers into your mouth to suck on. "want your long fingers in my pussy, daddy~" you whimpered sounding extremely desperate, which made his erection grow further. "wanna rub my pussy all over you" you pouted and he took his fingers out of your mouth, and put his hand on your throat. he pushed you up against the wall of the bathroom, slightly choking you. "you're such a fucking brat." he basically spat the words in your face. "then fuck me like one." you replied, and before you could think, he crashed his lips onto yours.

he made out with you in fury, of course this was pleasureful for him too, but he wasn't going to tell you that. his kisses were aggressive, causing whines and moans to slip from your lips. his lips traveled across your neck, biting you, leaving dark hickies that definitely wouldn't fade for awhile. you whined and scratched at his back as he continued to trail his hickies down over your chest. "oh I’ll fuck you like one, you little slut." he turned you around so that your face was pressed up against the cold wall. his hold was aggressive and strong. his finger hooked at your panties and brought them down, leaving your skirt on. his finger teased at your heat, as he brought it up revealing the slick on his finger "being a whore in front of my friends turns you on that much?" you opened your mouth to make a snarky remark back, but suddenly he jammed the same fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. "you're gonna shut the fuck up while I give you what you want, mkay?" he shoved his fingers into your pussy, with a quick pace jamming them in and out. you whimpered in response, and arched your back a little to get him to go faster. he slapped your cunt "needy little baby, aren't ya?" you whined and teared up a little, looking at him. "p-please tsuki! 'm s-sorry!" you were now a whining and crying mess. he chuckled and stared down at you "its a little late for that sweetheart." he continued to finger you aggressively, occasionally rubbing your clit. as your mascara began to run down your face a little, you lost composure and had trouble standing "'m gonna- ah~ gonna cum" he smirked and didnt slow down "on my fingers." you released on his fingers, coating them completely. he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them as he looked at you. "taste so good, so sweet, babe" you blushed against the wall and didnt look him in the eyes.

"quiet now aren't we? well that'll change." you blushed harder as you heard him undo his pants. a moan slipped from your lips as he pressed the tip of his cock against your pussy. he grinned, and without hesitation, slammed right into you. you moaned loud, tears forming at your eyes cuz " 'ts too much! tsuki - hic - cant take it...~" you cried a little, but he didnt falter. instead he continued ramming in and out of you harshly. "fuck, squeezing me so hard" he moaned as he threw his head back slightly. "tsuki 'm sorry!~" you moaned as he continued to pummel into you. "are you now, babe?~ how bout you show me how sorry you are." you whined as he hit your gspot, and felt his breath on the side of your neck. his mouth next to your ear "cum, babe" you cum all over his dick, grabbing at the wall as you do it. you hear him whine as he cums inside you. you pant, trying to recover from the extremely rough sex your boyfriend had put you through. he turned you around, and looked down at you, as you stared intently at the ground quietly.

"have you learned your lesson babe?" he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. staring up at him with big eyes, a pout on ur lips, lipstick smeared, and mascara running down your face, you whine "y-yes, tsuki! im so s- hic - sorry" even though he brought you in here since he was mad in the first place, he could never deny an apology from his good little girl. he wiped your tears and kissed you. " 's okay, baby, now how bout we go home so you can rub your pussy all over me?" he snickered at the embarrassment on your face, you punched his stomach lightly. you loved spending time with your boyfriend.

#tsuki smut #tsukishima smut #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima smut #haikyu #haikyuu smut #anime #haikyuu

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